There Sleeps a Living Flower
by Wordmangler
Summary: The tiny glow of a match brings Anna the beggar girl and Elsa the privileged princess together, to learn from each other about the beauty and cruelty of winter as they form a friendship that will lead them to discover secrets about each other they never dreamed of, and a fate they never imagined. [Elsa/Anna friendship. Set in 19th century Arendelle, w/lots of period research.]
1. The Little Match Girl

**1\. The Little Match Girl**

Most terribly cold it was; it was snowing, and was nearly quite dark as the evening wore on. The market stalls in the square were shutting up, the hustle and bustle of the day soon to be replaced with the cold emptiness of night. People were bundled up well against the winter chill, with thick warm coats and heavy boots, for the temperatures were already below freezing. They hurried to and fro, intent on their own little errands, and few even noticed the small, thin girl dressed in rags and castoffs, and her little box of lucifers.

"Matches, sir? Buy my… my fine matches?" she asked in a small, weak voice, holding a few white phosphorus matches out in her pale hand.

"Out of the way, beggar," a well-dressed man shot, brushing her aside as he headed into the light and warmth of a shop. The little girl followed him with her eyes, seeing the welcoming golden glow, and knowing it was not meant for her; it would never be meant for her. With the leaden, blank-eyed gaze of unexpectant want, she turned away, returning to her work, and the only life she could ever know. Shuffling her feet, she tried to get some warmth into them: she had already lost one of her slippers, or it had simply fallen apart from long use; and the other was not long for this world.

Moving further out into the square, she approached a man with an unlit pipe, holding out one of her matches. "Sir?" she asked, then coughed.

Startled by the noise, the man glanced at her, seeing her unwashed red-blonde hair, her blue eyes with dark shadows underneath them, and a dusting of freckles that the grime could not quite hide. He shook his head and turned away, using one of his own matches to light his pipe.

The little match girl sighed softly, and turned to look for another potential customer. She had not been able to sell a single matchbox today, as it was the last evening before the New Year, and not many people were out. The cold snow, falling steadily and coating everything with a smothering blanket of deathly white, was also keeping people indoors, snug in their warm homes. The girl thought about her own home, the narrow, dark cold room she shared with her father and grandmother—she once had a brother, but he had died of the flux when she was very small, and her mother had left for Oslo many summers ago, and no word had ever come back. The match girl liked to dream that her mother was now living in a fine warm house, with nice clothes, and good food, but never mentioned this to her father, not after the time she was beaten until her thin body was a mass of bruises, and her father had told her never to daydream and make up stories again.

"No beggars!" came a stern voice, startling the little redhead. "Move along!"

The girl looked up to see a policeman glaring at her. "Please sir, I'm not a beggar, I'm… I'm an honest salesgirl," she said, repeating the story she had given so many times before. "I'm selling lucifers, sir. See?" She held out her carrying tray, with the boxes inside it.

The policeman snorted. "Arendelle is rife with you street-orphans. The sooner we can pack you all into a workhouse the better. What's your name, urchin?"

"A—Anna, sir," the girl said, trembling. "Please sir, I'm not an orphan; I have a family."

"No doubt you do, uh. Anna," the policeman said in a voice which suggested he didn't believe her, and didn't care either way. "Mind you don't disturb the good folk in their homes, now. Selling's only allowed on the streets. And if I hear any complaints about you loitering, or begging, or bothering the gentry, it's off to the workhouse, family or no."

"Thank you sir," Anna said, bobbing her head as the policeman passed on by, turning his coat collar up as a fresh blast of snow swirled around the square. Anna shivered, wrapping her thin shawl more tightly around her shoulders, and shook her bare head to get the snow off it as she trudged away from the square along the cobbled street, holding out her matches to the few people who passed.

A sudden noise of jingling sounded behind her and a shouted "Make way!" sent her scrambling as fast as she could on frozen feet to the side as a great red sleigh and two horses dashed past. Anna was able to just get a glimpse of a young girl, dressed in expensive furs, and surrounded by shopping bags from many different stores. The girl was nestled into the arms of an older woman, in elegant finery, and for a moment Anna was reminded of her own grandmother, and how, after her father had beaten for not selling enough lucifers, or had struck at her in one of his drunken rages, she had always been able to find comfort in the bony arms of her grandmother.

But the old woman had been ill for many years, ever since she had started coughing blood so red that little Anna had wondered at first if it were paint, and had finally gone to her eternal rest not more than a month before. Anna supposed that her grandmother was now happy in Heaven, but it was so much harder for her to be left behind, without anyone to protect her from her father's wrath. Tonight would be no different, she knew, if she were to return home with anything less than half a dozen skillings. Her insides twisted at the thought of yet another beating, so she trudged wearily back to the main square.

The small girl passed a large, well-lit house, and through a large window, glowing with the warmth of a good fire, she could glimpse a Christmas Tree, the candles in its branches flickering brightly. As she stood there, mesmerized by the tiny lights, the scent of roasted goose caught her nostrils. Anna's empty stomach clenched as the succulent odours crept out into the street: she had not eaten since breakfast, and that was only a thin crust of stale bread and butter, washed down with some weak cabbage soup. Some days, if she was able to sell many matches, she could afford to have a whole pastry, bought from one of the stallkeepers. And once she had found an entire roast chicken just lying on the ground in the snow, dropped by some careless shopper—her family had eaten well for several nights then. But goose! Oh, that such a food could exist! Anna took a deep breath, trying vainly to extract some nutrition, some flavour, from the thin air. For a brief moment she even forget how cold she was, and how much her feet hurt.

"Begone with ya, ya little beggar!"

Anna jerked around to see a portly woman brandishing a broom at her from the neighbour's front stoop. Not wanting any trouble, the little match girl hobbled away as quickly as she could on feet almost numb with cold, heading back towards the square. She rested briefly on a pile of empty crates and, out of habit, checked to see if any food had been left in them. She was not surprised to find there was nothing—she was not the only beggar-child in the city, after all.

She cast a final despondent look around the market square. By now there was almost no one out, save for a few beggars and mendicants shuffling around, like herself, in the forlorn hope of collecting a skilling or two for what might be their only meal of the day. Anna cast a look down into her little carrying-box, and sighed deeply. She would have wept, but there was no point in weeping. Not for her, not here. She had learned that lesson a long time ago. Even when she was beaten, she did not weep, for it would not make the pain ease, or her father less angry. Only after it was all over and she could find solace in her grandmother's arms would the tears finally come, to be delicately wiped away by the old woman's gnarled hands. But with her grandmother now gone, there was no respite from her father's wrath. She could not go home like this, not having sold a single matchbox. There was nothing for it but to spend yet another night outside, in some quiet corner, and hope that the morrow would bring better luck.

The small girl shuffled down a narrow alley that was out of the wind and snow, and found a little corner where one house projected farther out than its neighbour, where she slumped down, drawing her feet under her, tucking them under the ragged hem of her dress. She put the carrying-box of matches into her lap, and stuck her fingers, red with cold, into her mouth to try and warm them. But it was like sucking ice, as she was so cold herself that it did not have much effect.

Anna glanced down at the boxes of matches she was carrying. Surely she could spare one, a single match, just to thaw her fingers out slightly? Just one would not make any difference, and her father would never bother to account for each skilling. Her hands shaking, partly from the cold, but mostly from her daring, she opened a box, and took out a long sliver of sulphur-impregnated cypress wood, the tip dipped in deadly white phosphorous. She gazed at it longingly, as if merely by looking she could enjoy its warmth, then she slowly stretched out a hand, and struck it on the stone foundation wall beside her.

The match flared into life, its flame lighting up the alleyway with yellow and gold, bringing the promise of warmth and comfort. A flame that could light up a great hearth-fire, bringing solace to an entire family. Or perhaps instead of a hearth, there would be an iron stove filled with coal, pushing out its welcome heat, and on top a kettle would be singing merrily, ready for the tea. Anna almost felt as if she could see that stove, and feel its embracing warmth. She stretched out her feet, blue with cold, to try and warm them as well, but all too soon the weak flame flickered and died, leaving nothing but a faint tracing of smoke curling up into the leaden night sky, from which the unrelenting snow drifted steadily down.

The cold and dark after the match had gone out seemed even more oppressive than before, and Anna quickly tucked her feet back under her thin skirts. She waited for a few moments, and then took out another match. Her hands shook less this time, for she cared less what her father would do. After all, he never beat her enough to cripple her, as he needed her to work. She would survive whatever he could do to her, even with no one to turn to to ease her suffering.

The second match scratched into golden life, even more brilliantly than the first, its light dancing in front of her eyes. Anna felt almost warm as she gazed as it. Through the flame, beyond the alley and over the wide moat, she could see the windows of the castle, lit up and full of cheer. She even felt she could hear snatches of music, borne on the wind, as the lords and ladies of Arendelle danced the old year away. Ah, to be in that ballroom, to be warm and safe and happy, Anna thought. She gazed into the burning flame, imagining what wonders lay there for the lucky. There would be good bread, and warm soup, and juicy, plump goose, and maybe even chocolates. Anna had heard people talking about chocolate, and seen it for sale in the shops, but she had never tasted it before. Would the princess of Arendelle be eating chocolate, she wondered. Oh, surely she must! Chocolate and plum tart and pudding and cakes—such a feast the flame promised! But then the fickle fire flickered and died, and Anna's small stomach was as empty as ever.

* * *

Princess Elsa of Arendelle was gazing out of a window high up in her castle, watching the people go to and fro, busy on various errands. She was exquisitely bored with the New Year's festivities, and hated the thought of mingling with the various nobles and court hangers-on. There was far too much pressure to pretend to emotions she dared not feel, to put on a pleasant face of welcome when she wished they would all go away and leave her alone. Far too much pressure to conceal her power, her curse.

So instead she had retreated here, to the topmost tower, as soon as she could, leaving her mother and father to entertain the guests. They did it so well, and she found it so impossible to maintain the pretence for long. At least being a princess meant she was expected to be somewhat aloof and cold. If only they knew just how cold, Elsa thought with a joyless smile, as she conjured up a swirl of snow. She sent it outside to join the rest, directing it high into the sky, watching as it danced and spun, like a ballroom full of angels in time with the strains of music that wafted up from the ballroom. With a sweeping gesture out the window she caused a sudden small blizzard, sending it soaring up over the town, showering its myriad lacy flakes upon the people below.

People…. Elsa did not much like other people, being around them. It was too nerve-wracking. Her power had always isolated her; for her own protection, her father always said, and to protect others. He had told her she needed to control her emotions to control her power; to conceal her feelings and conceal her gift. For even in this modern scientific nineteenth century, when the power of steam was changing the face of Europe, no good would come of rumours that the sole child of the king and queen, heiress to the throne of Arendelle, was a witch.

So Elsa seldom ventured outside, and if she lacked real playmates, at least she had as many as she liked in the form of characters in the stories she would read over and over again. And her father had given her a telescope for Christmas just the previous week, so the young princess had spent many hours gazing down on the city from her perch near the very highest part of the castle. She had been doing so again this evening, watching the people go by—the merchants, the young ladies in their finery, the tall dandies with their elegant coats, the tradesmen rolling out of the pubs, arm in arm and faces red, the fat old women who tended the pepperkaker gingerbread stalls, and the soldiers keeping an eye on everything. It was amusing to spy on them, seeing and not being seen. It was a way to participate vicariously, without having to actually interact with anyone as she remained apart, aloof, above them all.

But the market was almost still now, and so Elsa had been playing with the snow, creating swirls and eddies of flakes that danced in the night sky, flying over the still town and settling on roof, tree, stall, road, and windowpane, dusting the world with a gentle white blanket that hid the ugly imperfections of reality. Snow was so elegant, so pure, Elsa thought—it was crystallized perfection. Geometrical precision brought to life, each tiny flake a universe unto itself, forever and ever, as far as her microscope could see.

There was no season better than winter, Elsa felt. She loved the snow and ice, which turned the kingdom into a fantasy playground: summer's prosaic landscapes magically transformed into soft, glittering, white and blue shapes that concealed mysteries beneath their cold exteriors. And there was the rich, warm food, the elegant long dresses, the festivals, and especially the long dark nights when those mysterious, shimmering green curtains of fire would march down from the pole and dance for her high in the sky.

In winter Elsa felt most alive, most able to face the world. It was her time. Sometimes she would even get her parents to take her, incognito, into the city and its marketplaces. They would swish through the streets in their great sleigh, visiting bookshops and toy stores, but they would always end with a stop at one of the stalls that sold pepperkaker, where she would marvel at the way they were made into all sorts of wonderful shapes, some coated with glaze and sweets and used to decorate windows. What they did with dough, she could do with snow. Elsa cast up a gust of flakes, shaping it into hearts, diamonds, clubs, stars, and all the other delightful patterns the gingerbread came in, imagining them floating down into the town, forming their own frozen decorations on windowpanes around the city. Tomorrow, New Year's Day, she knew her family would have to leave early to visit the great cathedral of St. Olav, and she was determined to ensure that her father bought her a large bag of pepperkaker to make up for having to go out into the city and face all those watching, staring eyes. The eyes that always seemed to say, we know what you are, we know what you did.

A sudden spark in the distance caught her eye. Over among the large merchant houses that lined the harbour, across from the castle, a tiny light flickered and wavered. Too small to be a lamp, Elsa's first thought was that it was a reflection of the castle lights on a bit of broken glass. But then the light went out, and she thought no more about it, concentrating on creating a particularly fine pattern of snow, which she sent out over the castle courtyard, letting the wind catch it and take it to create its own unique patterns.

Another spark flared up, in the same place, and Elsa peered towards it, curious as to what could be causing it. It seemed to be coming from down one of the narrow alleyways. The light was too bright to be a reflection from anywhere, and Elsa leaned on the windowsill, chin in hand, looking out at the gleam in the darkness and wondering. She dreamed for a moment that it could be a fairy, like in her stories, but her father had been most specific that such things did not exist. Perhaps a troll, with gleaming gold? Come down from its mountain home to spirit away a beautiful maiden to be its bride—and as trolls were known to prefer princesses, Elsa found amusement in imagining it might be looking out over the water at her, yearning for her. Then her little fantasy was interrupted by the church bells tolling midnight, signalling the new year, and the mysterious light faded again.

The snow was slowly easing, and Elsa knew her mother would be expecting her in bed. She picked up her telescope and was about to start down to her bedroom when yet another spark caught her eye, much brighter than the others. This time she raised her telescope and peered through it. It was hard to make out, as the snow was still falling, but it looked like a small figure hunched in the snow. A small woman, or a child, perhaps. Elsa couldn't imagine what the person was doing, or why they would be outside so late. Of course it was never going to be a fairy or a troll, but could it perhaps be smugglers, or even pirates, making secret signals? Pirates in Arendelle would be an exciting adventure—the idea sent a mild chill up the young princess's spine. Playing along with her fantasy imaginings, Elsa grabbed the candlestick from the table and held it out so it could be seen, moving it from side to side in reply. But there was no response from the light, and when it eventually faded, having lasted longer than the others, she turned away in disappointment, leaving her fantasies to return to the tedium of her life. It would have been so much more interesting, she thought, if she could have gone out there and discovered the pirates, or trolls, or fairies, or whatever was making that strangely hypnotic light. Elsa glanced at her hands, and sighed. She could never do that, not as long as she was afflicted with this curse. There was too much risk—she simply wasn't safe to be around.

Already half-asleep, Anna nestled into the snowbank, which felt warm and soft, more inviting that the fluffiest feather bed. She could hear, far off, the sound of the bells ringing in the New Year, and sighed as a distant memory from her childhood surfaced, of visiting the castle many years ago, when it was open to all, with her grandmother. Anna felt she would so like to be with her again, to be held and comforted, protected from everything harsh and cold. Perhaps the warmth of the flames could bring them together again, at least in her heart.

Anna drew out several matches, knowing this would cost her dearly on her return home, and lit them. Oh, they were so bright and warm! So much more so than a single match! What a marvel a flame was! The young girl breathed in the hot, slightly acrid smell, feeling it warm her chest right down to the bottom as she gazed into the dancing flames. She could see shapes in there, twisting figures, laughing and dancing. And there was her grandmother! Just a figure in the flames, reaching out her hands to the young ragged child. A small smile stole across Anna's dirty face, and fresh tears of happiness sparkled in her eyes. Behind her grandmother she could see the lights of the castle, the lanterns gleaming from the windows and eaves, and in her mind's eye the castle lanterns became the candles on the tree she had seen earlier, with one near the top, brighter than the rest, forming the star. The tall, narrow alley transformed into a warm, inviting ballroom, and she and her grandmother were dancing happily through a snowstorm of golden lights that surrounded her, lifting her up, filling her heart with joy.

The final matches flickered and died, falling unnoticed from the child's pale hands. Anna's last thought, before she drifted off, was a blissful happiness that her feet didn't feel sore any more.

The young princess had left the candlestick in the open window, where it burned brightly for a few more minutes, then started to gutter as the wind picked up. The flame struggled to survive, but in the end the snow was too much for it, and it slowly faded and died, leaving the room in darkness as the cold winter night reclaimed its icy grip on the world.

**NOTES:**

I saw Disney's version of The Little Match Girl the other day, and was very impressed. For such a short segment, it really resonated quite powerfully. The cold and snow immediately made me think of Frozen, and the way that, even at its worst, the depiction of winter in Frozen still has that fairy tale-like air, one which the wealthy could indulge in, but the poor would have to just suffer through. So I decided to explore these different reactions to winter through Anna and Elsa, making Anna the poor girl, and Elsa the rich one who inadvertently makes things worse. Unlike Andersen's tale, however, this one will have a somewhat happier ending (there wouldn't be much of a story to tell if I followed the original too closely, after all…).

The first sentence is almost a direct quote from HCA's first sentence. Much of the descriptions of match-selling is taken from Henry Mayhew's "London Labour and London Poor," a fascinating bit of social history written during the 1840s, the same time "Frozen" is set. Therefore the conditions I describe here will probably tend towards more London than Arendelle, but I will try and keep it from being too British. The odd mention of skilling coins or pepperkaker gingerbread, for example. Pepperkaker is Norwegian gingerbread, and like many countries in Germany/Scandinavia, it is commonly eaten as a Christmas treat, or used for decorations.

The behaviour of trolls is based on Scandinavian folklore—it does seem princesses were a preferred target of trolls.

The bit about the "leaden blank-eyed stare of unexpectant want" is pinched from George Eliot's The Mill on the Floss: "…the homes where the hearth was not very warm, and where the food had little fragrance; where the human faces had had no sunshine in them, but rather the leaden, blank-eyed gaze of unexpectant want." A wonderfully haunting bit of imagery describing the poor. I have used it in a couple of works before already. I think "unexpectant want" is such a perfect description.

The "deadly white phosphorus" tip refers to the older style of white phosphorus matches, which used a particularly dangerous form of phosphorus that could in the worst cases lead to a condition known as "phossy jaw," when the jawbone would literally rot from the inside. I really don't recommend looking it up if you're eating. Red phosphorus was developed later, and found to be much safer, but it was also more expensive, so for many decades matchmakers tried to use the cheaper form. However, the appalling conditions did create a foundation for some of the first modern labour reform movements.

Incidentally, it seems, based on Mayhew and others, that selling individual matches, as shown in the Disney short, would be highly unusual: the standard was for a box, for a few pennies or so. So I have made Anna sell matchboxes, rather than individual matches (which is really a bit like selling single staples…).

[**Edited** 21-Oct-14: Guest reviewer Pottere1 spotted that I had given Anna two sisters in this chapter, and then later had her have none, and one brother. Oops. So it's now one brother and one mother...]

[**Edited** 21-Apr-15: St Olav's is not a stave cathedral in the chapter in which it features, so I have removed that reference, and made a few other very minors edits.]


	2. The Princess and the Pauper

**2\. The Princess and the Pauper**

The morning sun was still some hours off from warming the frosty morning when Elsa's lady's maid knocked on her door and entered.

"Good morning, Highness," she said, curtsying to the sleeping figure. "And might I wish you a Happy New Year?"

There was no reply. The maid set down the tray with the bowl of fresh water, then moved to the windows, quietly drawing opening the thick curtains. She cast a glance at the dark fireplace, which had not been lit in years, and sighed, seeing her breath as a pale mist in the ice-cold room. Then she busied herself with a few more chores before beginning the hardest of them all—getting the young princess up and moving on time.

"Highness?" she asked again, and was rewarded by a stirring of the quilts, and the emergence of a long, pale arm.

"Astrid? What time is it?" came a muffled voice.

"Just short of seven, Highness," Astrid replied. "Your royal parents are expecting you to join them for breakfast in the Small Dining Room, and then you will be heading for Divine Mass at St. Olav's Cathedral. Following that, there will be a reception in the Red Drawing Room for the nobles, and Her Majesty has requested you not to be late."

The bedclothes rumpled and shifted and the tousled blonde head of the princess emerged.

"Seven! I only just got to sleep! Where's my—ah, there it is…." Elsa splashed her face, trying to wake herself up, and smoothed down her hair. Then she slipped out of bed and stood barefoot, in her thin nightgown. "What have you prepared for me to wear today, Astrid?"

"Perhaps this soft mauve outfit, Highness?" Astrid suggested, indicating one of the dresses she had laid out.

"Mauve?" Elsa shook her head. "It's quite frightful, don't you think? No, that purple one. Something more sombre."

"As you command, Highness," Astrid said, returning the rejected gown to the closet while Elsa got dressed.

The clock was just striking half past the hour when Elsa was finally ready, her pale blonde hair neatly braided and coiled on her head, her long velvet gown all neat and tidy, and her face washed and clean. She glanced towards her maid, who was holding the final item: a pair of long white gloves. The hated symbol of her difference, her isolation from human contact. With a sigh, she held out her hands, feeling the doors to her heart swing shut once more as Astrid slipped them on.

* * *

The eastern sky was just starting to be painted with the first pale gold fingers of dawn when the long purple and green royal sleigh headed out of the castle gates, preceded by four soldiers on horseback to clear the way and act as bodyguards. Not that there was any real threat, as King Agdar and Queen Idun were well loved by the people. Elsa had once suggested dispensing with them altogether, but her father explained that the soldiers considered it an honour to guard them. It had become another of her lessons in how to rule, and command respect.

As the sleigh crossed the long bridge to the mainland, Elsa focused her mind on something, anything, that wasn't the fact that she was out in public, exposed, vulnerable. She held her gloved hands together tightly, fearful of an outburst, an accident, of hurting someone and being exposed as a witch, hated and feared. There had been several minor incidents over the years, which had all been hushed up, but just in case, her contact with other people was always kept to a minimum.

"Don't feel, don't feel," she muttered to herself. "Conceal it. Beneath the gloves, hide it away."

Once she was calm and centred, her fear and emotion properly suppressed, she looked up as the sleigh moved into the square, which was already full of people even though the sun had not yet risen.

"I do wish we didn't have to be out before the sun's up," she commented in a low voice.

"You know it never rises until after nine at this time of year," her mother told her. "It's part of a ruler's duties to consider others. None of these people get to stay home until it's light, either."

"I suppose I'm being a bit self-centred," Elsa admitted. "After all, I suppose these people aren't even princesses."

"And many aren't even with their families," her mother reminded her, reaching out a hand to her daughter, hovering it over Elsa's clasped hands, then quickly withdrawing it. Elsa tucked her hands under the blanket over her lap, and looked away, out at the houses and people, her eyes passing over them without seeing them.

"And some might not even have families to be with," the queen added, looking down at her own hands, gloved against the cold. "Some people are even alone in the holidays."

Alone... With a start, Elsa remembered the light she had seen in the night and the small, lone figure crouched behind it. Was that person now with their family, warm and safe? Surely he, or she, wasn't still outside? It had been such a weak light, and the figure behind it so small that Elsa was suddenly worried that something tragic might have been unfolding while she sat in her tower, safe and comfortable. Surely her playing with snow hadn't harmed anyone? Elsa knew she needed to know. Immediately.

"Stop!" she cried. "Stop at once!"

Startled, the groom reined the horses, looking to the king for instruction.

"Elsa, what is it?" the queen asked, surprise and concern in her voice.

"I'll be back immediately!" Elsa told her, jumping down from the sleigh.

"Agdar!" the queen gasped. "Elsa! She's run off!"

"After her!" the king ordered, and two soldiers followed her on foot. "What's she thinking?" he asked his wife. "What's happened?"

The queen shook her head. "I have no idea! Elsa would never run off, in public, like this!"

"Jensen, turn the sleigh around and follow her!" the king ordered.

The groom nodded, and called out to the horses. The great purple sleigh jerked around in a tight curve, sending onlookers leaping, and sped off after the fleeing princess.

* * *

Elsa ran lightly across the snow, for once not conscious of the people around her. She slipped between two stalls, and out onto the wide embankment, lined with the offices and storehouses of some of Arendelle's finest traders and merchants. Every so often there would be a narrow alleyway between two of the brightly-painted wooden buildings, either for access, or as a leftover bit of land when one building was replaced by another over the course of the centuries.

There was nothing down the first alley, or the second, but Elsa skidded to a stop outside the third. There was a strange heaping of snow halfway down, and what looked like rags poking out. Nobody passing by would have noticed anything unusual. Elsa glanced around, and saw the two soldiers coming after her as fast as they could on the icy roads. She ignored them, however, all her attention on the strange mound of snow and rags. Heading into the narrow alleyway, picking her way carefully between the refuse and rubbish, her suspicions grew quickly firmer. This was no random heaping of snow—there was someone almost buried there, under the snow.

The princess approached step by nervous step, her heart in her mouth. She spotted a few stray fragments of black amidst the fresh white powder, and suddenly realised they were spent matches. It had been their light she had seen from the castle. And the person who lit them had clearly not been playing any sort of game: to her shock, she realised that what she had thought might be a bit of rumbled paper or card was a pale hand, thin and dirty, fingers blue with cold.

The hand was poking out of a ragged sleeve, heavily dusted with snow, that led up to a small head, with hair that might have been reddish underneath the grime and snow, and the dirty face of a young girl, her eyes closed and a small, sweet smile on her cracked, blue-purple lips.

Elsa's heart hammered into her throat, and she took a sudden step back, feeling ill. The figure she had seen from the castle the night before had never been a pirate, of course, but it was not even some drunkard sleeping off the night's revelry. It was just a little girl, even younger than she was, and so poor she had only a few matches to try and ward off the deadly cold. With a low, agonized moan of horror, Elsa stumbled backwards, into the arms of her father.

"Elsa, my child! What are you doing here! We must leave!" he told her.

"Father!" Elsa gasped, unable to tear her eyes away from the frozen child. "I saw her! I saw her last night!"

"You saw who?" the king asked. He glanced at the snow-covered girl, and swallowed hard. "Look, Elsa sweetie, let's get on to the cathedral, where it's nice and warm."

"I did this…." Elsa moaned, her voice barely audible. "I was playing with the snow, making it fall, making the magic. I shouldn't have, I know. But I did this…. I sent the snow…. I killed her…."

"No, no, you didn't, my little princess," her father said sternly, holding her tight. "Maybe she's just sleeping…" he trailed off, with a sceptical glance at the soldier standing nervously near him. The king jerked his head at the girl on the ground, and the soldier stooped, brushing the snow off her face. Then he stood, and shook his head silently. Elsa whimpered in despair.

"I'm afraid there's nothing you could do, my darling," the king said. "You couldn't have saved her."

"I could have! If I'd come last night, instead of staying in the castle, safe and alone!" Elsa cried, wrenching out of the king's grip, leaving him holding her glove. She knelt in front of the small girl, and gingerly touched her face. Then she felt for her hand, and held it tight. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I should have come out to play, not stayed inside hiding. I should have gone to see what the lights were. I wanted to, I really did. But I was afraid. I'm always afraid…."

"Elsa, come," her father said, a slight edge to his voice. "The service will be starting soon. There's nothing we can do for her now."

Elsa held the small girl's hand in her own bare one, and moved it gently across the girl's breast to rest. She held it there a moment, and then a little longer, searching, probing for something. Then she removed her other glove, tossing it aside for the soldier to scramble after. She placed both hands around the girl's neck, feeling carefully.

"Elsa! Your mother's waiting!" her father called.

"Father! She's alive!" Elsa gasped. Deep beneath the cold skin, she could feel the faintest, slowest pulse, weak and thready.

"Alive?" the king asked. "Are you sure?"

"Yes!" Elsa cried. She quickly brushed the rest of the snow off the girl's blue-white face, then made an impatient gesture with her hand. Immediately the rest of the snow covering the girl swirled up, coalescing as Elsa moved her hand, and dispersed into the sky. "Father! She's alive! We have to save her!"

"Bring her!" the king snapped to a soldier. "Elsa, come on! We'll take her back to the castle, get her warm!"

The soldiers carefully picked up the frozen girl and carried her back to the sleigh, where they laid her in the back, and Elsa covered her with a thick fur.

"Wake up, please," Elsa pleaded as the sleigh turned around and headed back to the castle. "Please!" She held the girl's icy hand in her own, almost equally cold hand, desperate for a sign of life, some indication that she wasn't a killer. Was it her imagination, or were the thin fingers starting to hold hers—was there a slight flickering of the eyes? A subtle quickening of the slow, barely-detectable pulse? Or was she already too late?

The sleigh pulled up to the front door of the castle, and two surprised footmen came rushing out, almost skidding on the ice. "Majesties! Why have you returned so soon? Is there a problem?"

"Take her into the Great Hall!" Elsa ordered as the king and queen got down from the sleigh.

"Who is this, Majesty?" one footman asked, looking from the frozen girl to the king in confusion.

"The princess has a compassionate heart, Hans," the king said with a wry smile. "Send Erik out to the cathedral to inform the bishop that we shall be a little late—he will understand. After all, in her own special way, our daughter is trying to save a soul…."

Elsa followed the footman, who was cradling the comatose child, into the ancient Great Hall of Arendelle Castle, where a huge fire was blazing in the massive stone hearth beside the royal family's tall Christmas tree.

"Go and get furs and blankets," she ordered once the child had been laid down near the fire. Then she sat down beside the still form, and drew her knees up under her chin.

"Elsa, darling, I know you're saddened by this," her mother said, her hand on her daughter's shoulder. "But really, I don't quite understand why you're so upset."

"I saw her, mother," the princess said, her blue eyes full of tears. "I saw her from the tower window last night. I was up there making snow, sending it out over the city, and I saw this light. A tiny little light that came and went. It was her, this girl, only I didn't know. I was watching her, pretending it was a fairy, or pirates, or something…. I never thought it might be a poor little girl with no home…."

Elsa broke off with a sob, laying a hand on the match girl's narrow chest. Her eyes narrowed. She could feel it, like something solid: there was ice in the girl's body; cold, deadly ice. But ice that she could control, bend to her will. And she knew what she could do. She slowly stroked her hand along the girl's body, feeling the freeze lift, absorbing it into herself. With each stroke, the child's skin gradually turned from a sickly blue-purple to a warm, healthy pink. Elsa could feel the blood flowing more strongly, the heart increasing its rhythm, the chest moving up and down as life returned to the girl she had rescued.

The beggar girl coughed, and her eyes slowly flickered open, unfocused.

"In the name of Heaven," the king gasped, his hands shaking as he witnessed the full power of the magic his daughter possessed. "Our daughter hath wrought a miracle here today! Mrs Gerdason, the furs!"

The middle-aged housekeeper hurriedly brought over the furs she had collected, and with the king's assistance, laid them over the girl.

* * *

As her consciousness slowly returned, Anna became aware of a great calming warmth spreading throughout her body, and could hear the crackling and popping of a large fire nearby. She was lying on something soft and warm, and could hear the vague murmur of gentle voices. So this was Heaven, she thought. Such warmth, such comfort…. Her grandmother must be nearby. Where was she?

With an effort, Anna opened her eyes. A golden glow filled her vision, and she could see… lights…. There were lights. Shining points of light, rising up to a star. She flexed her fingers: she was lying on soft, thick furs. There was someone bending over her, and Anna could dimly make out what looked like white hair.

"Grandmamma?" she whispered.

The figure laughed gently. "I do hope not," it said in a soft, cultured voice.

Anna blinked, raising a hand to her eyes and rubbing them. Every movement felt like she was fighting gravity, and her arm seemed to weigh a ton. Then the vague shapes swimming before her eyes drifted into focus, and she gasped. The person bending over her was a young girl, not much older than she was, with pale blonde hair, ice-blue eyes, and alabaster skin, and dressed in a gorgeous purple velvet gown, embroidered with intricate patterns of flowers picked out in gold and silver.

"My… my pardon, my lady," Anna muttered, not sure where she was, but knowing it was nowhere the likes of her should ever be. "I am... I am sorry for intruding. I do not… know… I do not know how I came here…."

"My daughter found you, buried under snow, and insisted we bring you back," said another voice, a man's. Anna looked past the beautiful rich girl holding her, and saw a slim man with reddish- blonde hair and a thin moustache. He was wearing a military uniform, covered in gold braid and medals. For a moment, Anna wondered if she had been taken into an army base, and then she remembered seeing that face in the paintings that hung in many of the shops in the city. The world went black for a moment, and she felt dizzy and ill. This wasn't possible. It just wasn't possible. She must be dead after all. Dead, and in Heaven, and for some reason the king himself was there to greet her. The king? The king! And she was just lying down on her back like a no-good gutter tramp!

Anna struggled to stand up, to curtsey, but she had only got about halfway up before she was gently pushed down again by the blonde girl. The girl—wait? He had said this girl was his… his daughter? Anna looked over at the girl, who was smiling at her, and tried to get her brain to function. It couldn't be. No, no, never. This girl—this was the Princess Elsa?

She looked wildly around, seeing the huge hall, filled with Christmas decorations, the great Christmas tree surmounted by a shining star, even taller and more gorgeous than any she had ever seen in the homes of the well-to-do, the brightly-coloured banners hanging from the ceiling, the array of old weapons on the wall, and the blazing fire beside her, in a hearth almost bigger than her entire home. Her brain and mouth tried to do about six different things all at once, leaving her stuttering and stammering.

"Relax," the girl—the princess—told her. "You're safe now. What's your name?"

"My… my name, Your Royal… Royal Graceness?" Anna gasped, hoping this was the right way to address a princess. For a split second she found she couldn't even remember her own name, before blurting out "Anna. My name's Anna, so please Your Graceness."

"Anna," the princess said, looking like she was suppressing a giggle. Then, to Anna's surprise, the young princess's expression suddenly crumbled. "Oh, I'm so glad you're alive!"

"I… I don't understand, Your… uh, Grace. Why should one such as yourself care for… for one such as me?"

The princess looked at her. "Last night, you were seated in the alleyway…. You were lighting matches, trying to keep warm."

"How... how did you know?" Anna gasped. She looked at the princess with fear and confusion in her eyes.

"I saw you," the princess admitted. "I saw you, and did nothing. I thought you were just playing, as I was. I had no idea you were dying…."

"My princess!" Anna gasped, not sure what she should do. "You saw me…? I'm real sorry, Your Gracefulness! Honest! I never intended to cause you no distress!"

Anna glanced nervously from the princess to the king, and the queen behind him, her heart beating like it might explode. Why had she been brought here? Was she about to be tossed into the dungeons for impertinence, for causing inconvenience to the royal family? Was she going to be thrown into prison, left to rot, never to go free? The fear and worry overwhelmed Anna, and she threw herself down, prostrating herself, and started to cry.

"Uh, Anna? Anna? Whatever is the matter? Do please stop crying," the princess said, sounding uncomfortable.

"I'm… I'm sorry, Your Grace! Please, don't put me in a dungeon! I never meant to bother you, never!"

"Oh, of course you're not going to a dungeon!" Elsa told her. "Please, calm down. Don't cry. You're safe, and nobody's going to hurt you."

Anna slowly raised her head, glancing at the princess then averting her eyes.

"Elsa, we really need to be leaving," the king said, taking a step back. "Even an earthly king has a lord he must answer to. I'm glad the child is safe, but we have done our duty to her, and now our other responsibilities await."

Elsa looked down at the girl's tear-streaked face, and nodded. "Yes, Father. Anna, we have to leave now. Do you…." Elsa trailed off, looking at the beggar child's rags. "Oh Father, can't we at least give her some decent clothes, maybe a hot meal?"

"Well, I'm sure we can arrange that," the king admitted. "Mrs Gerdason! Find some clothes from one of the scullery maids she can wear, then take this, er, girl to the kitchens, and let her have some of the servants' breakfast."

"Yes, Majesty," the housekeeper said with a quick curtsey, then turned to the girl. "Come with me, child. I'll get you some proper clothes to wear."

Elsa nodded. "Go with her," she told Anna. "Don't worry—Mrs Gerdason's very kind. You'll be fine."

"Th… thank you, M—Majesty," Anna said, copying the form of address the older woman had used.

"Actually, it's Highness for princesses," Elsa said, trying not to laugh. "And don't worry, please."

"You're so, so wonderful kind to me, Highness," Anna said, slowly getting to her feet. Her clothes were almost dry, thanks to the blazing fire. It was so warm and wonderful in this great hall. Anna could have readily accepted that this was Heaven, and found it hard to imagine how anything could be more splendid than her current surroundings. Even now she wasn't entirely sure she wasn't up there, and the king and the queen and the princess were really angels. It was only the absence of her grandmother that spoiled the illusion.

"Go with her," Elsa said. "Mrs Gerdason, I'll want to see her when I return, so make sure she doesn't leave before that."

"Of course, Highness," Gerdason said, curtseying. Anna felt a heavy push on her shoulders, and looked at the old woman. "Curtsey, girl!" Gerdason whispered under her breath.

Anna did her best, clumsily imitating the way Gerdason dipped her knees and head and held out her skirt.

With a gentle smile, the princess and her family left the Great Hall, and Anna was alone with the housekeeper.

"Please, ma'am," Anna began nervously, "I… I am really honestly ever so grateful, so very grateful. I really don't warrant none of their kindness, not one like me. Maybe I oughta give 'em something in payment?"

"Hush, girl," Gerdason said. "You think you have anything the royal family could desire? Don't be foolish. Now come along. Before I give you some real clothes, not these smelly rags, you are going to have a proper hot bath—probably for the first time in your life, I'd warrant."

"What? A real bath? With hot water and all?"

Gerdason looked at her, and gave a small laugh. "Yes, little one. With hot water and even soap. You certainly need the soap!"

.

* * *

**NOTES AND COMMENTS: **

Even though this is a sort of fairy-tale, with magical powers, I do want to try and keep it grounded. There is actually precedent for Anna being able to survive a night in the snow: I found a NY Times article from 1981 about a Dakota teenager who recovered after being literally frozen stiff overnight, and snow itself is actually a pretty good insulator.

The sun doesn't rise in the Bergen area of Norway until about half past nine in early January. I've used this region as the town of Arendelle is based on Bergen, though the landscape is quite different.

"Astrid" is taken from _How To Train Your Hiccup_, and "Mrs Gerdason" is of course "Gerda" but changed to a patronymic surname – as, if _Downton Abbey_ is any guide, senior servants were not called by their first names.

Christmas trees originated in Germany, but by the early 19th century had spread to the royal courts and nobles of Europe, and Hans Christian Andersen had actually written his _The Fir-Tree_ about a Christmas tree in 1844, so it is historically acceptable for the court of Arendelle to have one. Queen Victoria also loved them.

**PS:** Thanks to Loridhhp for catching a typo - I've fixed that "Else"... Despite re-reading the thing at least half a dozen times, there's often one or two that slip through...

**PPS**: "How to Train Your Hiccup" is a joke, not a typo. It's flipping the perspective around. If Hiccup trains Toothless, then Toothless trains Hiccup as well.

[Edited 30 Mar 15]


	3. Little Lost Kitten

**3\. Little Lost Kitten**

"Well, girl? I don't have all day!" the housekeeper said, looking at Anna impatiently. "Get undressed! Haven't you ever had a bath before?"

Anna shook her head. "Not like this, my lady," she said, looking nervously down at the ground. She shouldn't be here, she knew. She should be outside, back on the streets, trying to sell her matches. After all, at some stage she was still going to have to face her father.

Gerdason's eyes opened wide. "Never had a bath before? Bless me, child, where have you been living? No, don't answer that, don't," she added quickly, as Anna's face started to crumple. "I'm sure it's not as easy where… wherever you live."

"We… we do wash, a bit," Anna said in a small voice. "With a cloth." Visions flashed into her mind of standing naked in a shallow washtub of cold water, while her grandmother quickly wiped her down with a rag that might or might not have been dirtier than the girl. The water was always cold, even in winter, as they couldn't spare the fuel to heat it. And they were limited to how much water they could carry up the narrow stairs to their tiny room anyway. A grand tub like this, standing proudly in the middle of the room, was quite unimaginable. Anna had never really thought much about how the rich bathed. She'd thought about how they dressed, and shopped, and even ate, because she could see it—or smell it. But bathing? The rich were clean and smelled nice because they were rich. That was all she had ever really considered. After all, what was the point? It wasn't as if she was ever going to be rich. As a priest had told her once, God ordained some people to be rich, some to be poor. Some to be princesses, and some to be paupers. And to oppose that order was to oppose God's will. She clearly remembered his remarkably thick eyebrows knitting as he told her that last one, and how afraid of divine wrath it had made her.

"Hurry up," the older woman was saying, interrupting Anna's thoughts. "Don't be a foolish girl: the bath won't kill you. Nobody but uneducated peasants thinks that these days. Wait—you're not shy, are you?"

"No, my lady," Anna said, as she slowly removed her dirty rags. Living in a one-room home meant privacy was almost unheard-of. Modesty was a luxury, one the poor could scarce afford. In the poorer areas of town everyone knew everything about everyone else—when they went to the toilet, how often they made love, and of course how often they shouted and argued. Which, especially in her home, was all too often.

"Oh dear, you are a sight," Gerdason said, once Anna had finished taking her clothes off. She looked over the girl's skinny body, and clucked her tongue. "I could count your ribs, I could. Once you're clean, we can feed you up a bit. Get some hot food into you."

"Thank you ever so much, my lady," Anna said, starting to weep again.

"Come now, little one, I'm just 'Mrs Gerdason,' not 'my lady'," Gerdason said, and through her fears Anna realised there was a bit more sympathy in her voice than before. "I'm not a noble; I'm just the head housekeeper."

"What… what is a housekeeper, my... ma'am?" Anna asked. "Is it sorta like a housewife?"

Gerdason laughed. "No, not quite, child. Now into the tub with you."

Anna looked at the large tub of clean water, and bit her lip. "I can't get in there, Miss! Uh, Mrs Gerdason. I'll get it all dirty!"

"That's what it's for," Gerdason sighed. "Get in, before the water gets cold."

Anna gingerly put a finger in the bath, then immediately snatched it out.

"What is it?" Gerdason asked. "Too cold?"

"It's so hot!"

Gerdason dipped her hand in, and swished it around a bit. "Nonsense. Why, it's barely even tepid. Now get in with you, and start soaping yourself. There's a towel over there, on the chair, and I'll be back soon with some clean clothes." She looked distastefully at the dirty pile of discarded rags on the floor, then left.

Alone, Anna looked at the large copper bath, hesitating, wondering if this was all some elaborate trick, or temptation of the Devil. She had fallen asleep outside, and dreamed of Heaven and seeing her grandmother again, and now she was… in the royal castle? Meeting the princess, the king, the queen? Impossible. Quite, quite impossible. Anna closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then slapped herself. Aside from a brief stinging pain, nothing else changed. When she opened her eyes she was in the same place, a small but warm room. A room in Arendelle Castle, of all places. And that bath did look very inviting. Anna suddenly realised that she was actually still quite cold indeed, despite the small fire crackling merrily in one corner.

She stepped into the tub carefully, marvelling at the sensation of the warm water easing up over her body, of being able to sit neck-deep in it. It was so wonderful she thought she might never want to leave. Her father, her matches, her poverty, her worries—all were all forgotten as Anna let the warmth of the water penetrate her frail, thin body, seeping deep into her very core. Anna lay back, the soap forgotten, luxuriating in the soothing, embracing warmth, marvelling at the luxury of being able to relax.

The door suddenly opened, startling her, as a young girl came in. Anna gasped and grabbed the edge of the bath, sure she was about to be scolded for being in there so long.

"Mistress said I was to brung you these clothes," the new girl said, holding them out awkwardly. "And to take back yer old clothes. Where they are? Oh, these them? These ain't nuttin' but rags! Why you wanna wear these old rags? Even I wouldn't be caught dead in this stuff, no-how!"

"I… I…" Anna wasn't sure how to respond.

"Get on with you, you look bright pink in there!" the girl laughed. "How long you bin in there, anyhows?"

"I don't know, Miss," Anna said. "I was just… I was just sitting here."

"Well, you ain't gonna get clean jes' sittin' there! Why, you ain't even touched the soap! Oh, come on, hold still, it ain't gonna hurt ya!"

"No, Miss," Anna said, not sure if she was being scolded or not as the other girl lathered up a handful of soap and slapped it on her thin shoulders.

"Go on, do the rest yerself. And I ain't no Miss, neither," the other girl said. "I'm Karin. Just plain old Karin. Miss is for the ladies, y'see. So where'd you come, anyhow? You gonna be working here?"

"Working here?" Anna gasped. "Oh, you is so lucky! That would be right grand! To be with the princess!"

Karin stared at Anna. "My, you is a strange one! It ain't so grand workin' 'ere, and you ain't ever gonna be playing with 'Er 'Ighness, that's for sure! Ain't nobody ever plays with her. Well, she don't never play, anyways. Always at her books and her lessons, she is."

"She never plays?" Anna gasped.

Karin's expression changed. "Well, I guess as she does play by herself, sometimes, but we ain't supposed to talk about that. We ain't supposed to talk about the princess at all, leastways to outsiders, but then I guess if you're gonna being workin' 'ere, you ain't an outsider no more."

Anna shook her head sadly. "I ain't gonna be workin' 'ere. I was just told to have a bath an' get some new clothes. Then I guess I hafta go away again."

"Wait, you not workin' 'ere? Then what's yer doin' 'ere?" Karin asked.

"I was all almost frozen to death, I reckon," Anna said, standing up and accepting a towel. "I was out there, in the snow, all night, and I reckon I musta been near to gettin' into Heaven, but she found me, and she brung me back, here. She saved me, I reckon."

"She?"

"The princess. She saved me. I could feel her touching me, making me warmer."

Karin's eyes grew wide, and her jaw dropped. "The princess! She used her magic?"

"Magic!" Anna gasped. "What magic?"

"No, no, forget it, forget I said anything, y'hear?" Karin stammered. "I'm just joking with you, right? Just a joke."

"If you say," Anna said, not wanting to press the issue. She didn't want to anger the older girl and get thrown out into the cold.

"Great, that's fine then. Now, they sent me in with your clothes," Karin said. "Here, dry yerself and get these on. The size should fit—they belonged to one of the scullery maids."

"What's a skully maid?" Anna asked as she used the thin towel to dry herself, and then promptly forgot her question as she looked at the clothing Karin was holding. "Oh, this is too much! Such a lovely dress, this is for a lady, this is! Not one the likes of me!"

"Are you having me on?" Karin asked, her eyes narrowed. "That ain't no lady's dress, get on with ya! It's a scullery maid's frock an' pinny, and I promise you, no lady'd ever get caught dead in it!"

"If you say so, Miss, uh, Karin," Anna said nervously. The dress, of simple starched cotton, was still cleaner and newer than almost anything she'd worn before, so to the beggar girl it was almost as gorgeous as the robes of a princess. Anna quickly got dressed, and twirled around, admiring her new outfit as Karin stuffed her fist into her mouth to keep from laughing at the younger child's naïve joy.

"You done in there?" Gerdason came into the room, and stopped and looked at Anna. "My, my, you do clean up well. Who'd have thought there'd be such a lovely little flower hidden under all that grime? Right then. Come along now, child. There's hot soup and bread in the servants' hall for you."

"Hot bread? Soup?" Anna could feel her stomach growl at the very idea as she was led into a large, bright hall, with a long, well-scrubbed wooden table down the middle. There was another blazing fire in the middle of one of the longer walls, keeping the room nice and warm.

Anna was made to sit on a bench at the far end of the table, and Gerdason motioned to another young girl who was seated at the table carefully mending a pale lilac silk glove.

"Astrid, bring some of the leftover soup and bread from yesterday's servants' tea," she ordered.

The young girl nodded, and left. She was back soon, and Anna found a tray placed before her, groaning under a magnificent repast. There was a large bowl of warm, thick, stew, two crusts of good brown bread, a great knob of yellow butter, and a big mug of steaming tea. Anna's stomach rumbled even louder at the smell, and Gerdason laughed.

"I guess you'd be hungry, lass. Eat up. And there's seconds if you're still hungry."

"Se—seconds, Ma'am? What're seconds?"

Gerdason blinked. "Why bless me, child. Seconds means you can have more if this isn't enough."

"More..." Anna gasped, and swallowed hard. She had always considered herself lucky to just get a single meal that would fill her small stomach. The concept of _more_ was almost impossible to imagine. She looked at the food again, inhaling the odour, and then her hunger got the better of her and she grabbed a slice of the bread and dipped it in the soup, soaking up the broth, and then crammed it in her mouth. Oh, it was so good! Anna quickly chewed and swallowed, and followed it with another.

"If you want more, just go into the kitchen and ask Mrs Pedersen, the assistant cook. Mind you don't leave the lower level, hear? No wandering the castle. You are to wait here until Her Highness returns."

"What… what does she want with me, Ma'am?" Anna asked nervously.

Gerdason shrugged. "The princess wishes to ensure you are clothed and fed, I'm sure. Now eat your meal. Looks like it's the first decent meal you've had in days."

"Weeks, Ma'am," Anna said. "Thank you so much."

"Weeks?" Gerdason repeated softly, looking at the thin, frail girl. "Aye, no doubt it is weeks, poor lass," she whispered to herself as she left the servants' hall.

* * *

Anna sat nervously in a corner of the servants' hall, trying not to be noticed as men and women came in and out, bustling about. Apart from a few glances and raised eyebrows in her direction, however, they paid her no attention, so Anna was free to sit and wonder what was going to happen to her. She was feeling very pleasantly full, and had even had a second helping of soup. Not only was she full, and warm, she was wearing clean, neat clothes without a single patch, and even had footwear. What more could one want from life, she thought.

With a start, she realised she'd left her matches in the bathroom, with her old clothes. Her matches! She couldn't go home without them! Anna was not sure if she would be allowed to leave the room, but then remembered the housekeeper, Mrs Gerdason, telling her not to leave the lower level. That must mean, Anna decided, that she was allowed to walk around that level. So with a final nervous glance, wondering if anyone would stop her, she slowly stood up and made her way to one of the doors. She found herself in a long corridor, with doors opening off on both sides. Anna suddenly realised she couldn't remember where the bathroom was—when she had followed the housekeeper, she hadn't been paying attention to where she was going, and the lower level of the castle was clearly something of a labyrinth.

"Out of my way, girl," someone called out, and Anna quickly pressed herself to the wall as a tall handsome man in fine livery came bustling past.

"Is that a prince?" Anna whispered, and heard a loud snort behind her.

"Hans, a prince? That's a laugh!"

Anna spun around and saw young boy, only a little older than her, standing in the doorway with a large carton. "He's not a prince? But he's dressed so fine!"

The boy laughed again. "Hans is just a footman, so don't let him boss you around! Hey, you new here? I haven't seen you before. I'm Kristoff. Royal Ice Master, at your service!" He gave an ornate bow, and Anna stepped back, confused.

"I'm… I'm Anna, sir," she said, trying to remember the way Mrs Gerdason had taught her how to curtsey. She bobbed her head and tried to tuck her foot back, but ended up losing her balance, kicking a low table, which wobbled, the vase on top tumbling to the floor as Kristoff lunged to grab it at the same time Anna did. They collided, and both fell to the ground, Anna underneath.

"I'm sorry! Are you all right?" Kristoff asked, rolling off quickly.

"I'm fine, thank you sir," Anna said. "Oh, look at the mess! I'm so sorry! I'll clean it up, I will!"

"Hey, relax, let me," Kristoff said. "And knock it off with the sirs. I work for a living, I do."

"Oh, please, I should do this," Anna said quickly, grabbing the vase from Kristoff's hands. "I mean, you're the Royal Ice Master! You shouldn't be worrying about this!"

Kristoff's face went pinkish, and he grinned, scratching the back of his neck. "Well, actually, I'm not any kind of Ice Master. Just an ice delivery boy."

Anna blinked. "In winter?"

"Ah, well, in winter I'm more of a general delivery boy," he admitted. "I was here to drop off a few cartons of carrots for the kitchens. You work here? You look a bit young."

Anna blushed. "No, sir. I'm just a match girl."

"Kristoff!" came a shout. "The carrots! Now!"

"Yes, sir," Kristoff called, not turning at the new voice. He winked at Anna. "Well, might see you around. You take care now—try not to knock over any more vases."

Anna watched him go, her face in a slight pout. Then she remembered she had to find her matches, or else she'd have nothing to sell. The thought of going back out into the bitter winter cold, trying to find people to sell her humble wares to, put a small, hard knot in the pit of her stomach, But there was no choice. There never was any choice, not for her.

* * *

Elsa stepped out of the sleigh with a sigh of relief. The service, while excruciatingly dull, had at least passed without incident, and she had received the Eucharist with only the faintest touch of ice on the cup. She suspected it was because she was so distracted that she simply forgot to worry: for some reason, the girl she had rescued was preying on her mind. Elsa was intensely curious to learn more about her, and what had driven her to such circumstances. And, for that matter, why she was thinking so much about her. She was just some girl, after all. The city must be full of young sales girls like her, peddling the minor necessities of daily life. Elsa had never given them a thought before, so why was she now unable to think of almost anything else?

"Remember, Elsa, we're receiving the nobles in half an hour," the queen told her as she alighted.

"I know," Elsa said, avoiding her mother's gaze. It was just one more tedious event she had to suffer through, but she had no choice. She never did. With a slight sigh, she entered the castle, and hurried up the wide steps to the castle, heading to her room as fast as dignity allowed.

"Highness, how was the service?" Astrid asked as she helped the princess change.

"Uneventful," Elsa replied, feeling even less talkative than usual. "Get me the blue dress with the silver snowflakes," she added, gesturing to the dressing room.

"Of course, Highness." The maid brought out a long silk gown of ultramarine, decorated with finely-worked silver brocade forming an intricate design of stylized snowflakes.

Elsa glanced at it, then shook her head. "No, no snow. On second thoughts, the plain black one."

"As you wish," Astrid said, returning the blue dress without comment, though she did raise an eyebrow slightly—normally the princess paid little attention to fashion. She unhooked the simple black dress, and helped the young girl get it on, before redoing her hair in a less ornate fashion, creating a simple coiled bun. The princess sat in silence, which was usual, but she was surprisingly restless, and Astrid was forced to wonder if there had actually been any little accidents at the service.

"Is the girl still here?" the princess asked suddenly.

"Uh, which girl, Highness?"

"The little match-seller."

"I… Oh, the young one? I think I saw her in the Servants' Hall, Highness. She was eating a bowl of soup. Enjoying it too, by the looks of it."

Elsa's expression remained neutral, but inside she permitted herself a slight glow of happiness. "Thank you, Astrid. I will go and see her now. Send Mrs Gerdason up."

"As you wish, Highness." The maid gave a quick curtsey and left, leaving Elsa alone with her thoughts. She stared at her reflection in the mirror, and slowly removed a glove. She touched a finger to the smooth glass surface. For a moment, nothing happened, and the princess let out a breath she had not realised she had been holding. Then a sheen of frost started spreading across the mirror, and she snatched her hand back with a scowl, thrusting it back into her glove.

A knock on the door startled her as she was trying to wipe off the ice. It opened, and the familiar form of the housekeeper entered.

"Highness?"

"Where is she?" Elsa asked.

"The beggar girl, Highness?" Mrs Gerdason asked. "I told her to wait in my room downstairs. I felt it would not be appropriate to have her wait in any of the upstairs rooms."

"Thank you. I wish to talk with her," Elsa said, taking a deep breath and smoothing a slight wrinkle in her left glove.

"I have bathed her and fed her, as requested, Highness." Gerdason hesitated, looking slightly nervous.

"What is it?"

"Highness, I know it's not my place, but…. When I was getting her into the bath, I noticed she has a number of bruises. I made no comment to the child, but… I fear she has been badly used."

Elsa's expression darkened. "Thank you, Mrs Gerdason. Bring her to me."

"As you wish, Highness."

The housekeeper left, and Elsa was left alone again. But not for long. She turned at the knock, and saw Gerdason standing there, her hand on the shoulder of a young girl in a maid's simple black frock, who was bowing her head low, and twisting her fingers together.

"Anna?"

"My Princess," the girl said, curtseying rather awkwardly.

"I… I am glad to see you looking cleaner," Elsa said, not sure why she was feeling anxious. "I do admit, I was terribly worried when you came in. Stand up straight and let me see you."

Anna did so, keeping her eyes downcast. Elsa raised an eyebrow. It was hard to believe that the strikingly pretty young girl before her now was the same dirty, half-frozen beggar she had rescued. Anna had long strawberry-blonde hair, a face liberally dappled with freckles, deep blue eyes half-hidden behind lowered lids, a small button nose, and cheeks reddened by exposure that made her look like she was blushing. Elsa found herself unable to keep from smiling as she saw the changes, and the cute little girl that was revealed.

"How old are you, Anna?" she asked.

"Please, Your Highness, I am eight years. At least I think."

"You think? Do you not know?"

"I'm not too terrible sure when my birthday is, Highness. On account of me mother leaving us so young. And we didn't never have birthdays, neither."

"You never had a birthday party?"

"No, Highness," Anna said. "There was no point."

Elsa bit her lip as she thought back to her last, and how she had hated having to sit patiently greeting a seemingly-endless line of dignitaries, all the while desperately hoping her secret would not be revealed, that she could maintain control. "For what it's worth, I don't much enjoy my birthday parties much."

"Don't princesses like parties? Highness?" Anna asked, her eyes open in surprise.

Elsa gave a slight smile. "I'm not fond of parties. I prefer to be left alone with my books. Can you read?"

Anna nodded. "A bit, Highness. The priest at the parish school learned me my letters."

"He did, did he?" Elsa asked, smiling slightly. The younger girl was so earnest and so cute, like a little lost puppy-dog. "What's your favourite book?"

"I… I don't honestly know, Highness. I don't have a book."

"You… you don't have a book? What, not one?"

Anna shook her head slightly. "No, Highness. I'm sorry."

"Oh, we must correct that! Mrs Gerdason! Bring me my copy of _Norwegian Folktales_."

"Of course, Your Highness," the housekeeper said, moving over to the well-stocked bookshelves.

"You shall have a book of your own, at least," Elsa said. "Books are very important. Is there anything else you wish?"

"Uh, wait…. Highness, might I humbly ask…?"

"What is it?" Elsa asked, arching an aristocratic eyebrow.

Anna held up a matchbox in hands that she couldn't quite keep from trembling. "Would you… um, Highness, might you wish to… buy some matches?"

The princess stared at her for a moment, then to Anna's astonishment, started to weep.

"Oh, Highness! Please, I did not mean to offend!" Anna gasped, hunching her head and bending low as Mrs Gerdason returned.

"Please, Anna, stand up," Elsa said quietly. "Of course I will buy your matches. All of them. Oh, but that seems so… so little." The princess took a step back, and bit her lip. "Mrs Gerdason…. We can't just turn her out into the cold again. Couldn't you use another maid in the kitchens or something? Anything's better than being on the streets in this weather."

"If you wish, Highness, of course," the housekeeper said. "We've been short-staffed for a while, so I'm sure we'll find plenty for young Anna to do."

"Good, good," Elsa said, and turned back to the girl. "That is, assuming you don't have anywhere you need to go. You don't have any family, do you?"

Anna thought about her father, and the beating that awaited her for not coming home last night, and the other beatings she had received over the years, and the damp, draughty room they lived in, and how cold she always was, how hungry she always was, how threadbare and poor her clothes were; and she thought of her grandmother, who had been forced to sell flowers on the street until she was too ill to even stand, and she made a decision. With a silent prayer for forgiveness for abandoning her father and breaking one of the Ten Commandments—she wasn't sure which—she shook her head.

"N…n… no, Your Highness. I have… no one. I am quite alone."

"Oh I am sorry," Elsa said softly. "Is that… is that why you were out there, alone, on the street last night? You… you have no one? There is no one to love you, care for you?"

Anna briefly thought about her grandmother, and her warm toothless smile. A smile she could never see again; a gentle love she would never feel again. "Not any more, Highness. No one cares about me."

"Well now there is," Elsa said with a smile. "You can live here now, and have a real job. Mrs Gerdason will tell you your duties, and show you what to do."

"Li… live here? In the castle?" Anna fought to keep the tears back, but couldn't quite succeed. "Th… thank you so much, Your Highness. I will work ever so hard, I promise!"

Elsa smiled. "I'm very glad to hear that. That you want to stay, that is. Goodbye, Anna. And I hope… I hope you like it here…."

Anna's eyes opened wide. "It's amazing, Highness! I know I shall!"

Elsa laughed, her face shining, causing the old housekeeper to raise an eyebrow at the rare sight.

"I might see you around then. Now go with Mrs Gerdason."

Anna curtseyed once more, then followed the housekeeper out of the room, dipping her head one last time as she left.

The princess looked after the young girl, fiddling with her gloves. She wasn't really sure why she had been so generous, offering a complete stranger a job in the castle, but there was something about Anna, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. For some reason, she felt as if she had to keep her close and safe, as if she was her responsibility. She was like a little lost kitten, naïve and eager to please, and Elsa felt less constricted around her than almost anyone else.

A soft voice interrupted her reverie. "Begging your pardon, Highness, but the King and Queen command your presence in the Red Drawing Room. The lords await you."

Elsa looked around, seeing the butler standing in the doorway, and sighed. She straightened her gloves, then settled her expression into a frozen mask of welcome as she followed him out, back to her cloistered, superficial life.

.

* * *

**SOME NOTES:**

First off, thanks for all reviews and follows received so far. I know it's very hard to get anyone to read your work in a fandom as active as this one (especially as this isn't about Elsa and Anna having a romantic love affair), but, coming from a much quieter fandom, I'm just grateful to have any readers….

If Anna seems far from her canon bubbly self, that's merely as she's still very nervous and unsure of herself at this stage.

What Anna remembers the priest saying about God ordaining some to be poor and some to be rich was quite a common way of thinking back then. While Disney has (wisely) kept religion out of their stories, I am adding some back in simply as a reflection of the period, to help try and ground it in some degree of historical reality.

I'm not sure if the dialects work – they're a bit of a muddle in a way, a sort of generic "low-class," but one minor aspect I would quite like to touch on is Anna being a bit of an Eliza Doolittle (_My Fair Lady_) and gradually learning to act like a lady as she interacts with the elegant, cultured princess.

I did do quite a bit of reading up on bathing in the early Victorian era, just in case I had written anything that needed changing, but about the only thing was a removal of a reference to clawed bathtub feet: those were more popular in the late Victorian era. Especially once tubs become permanently connected to plumbing: Elsa and her parents could well have baths with running water, even hot, but not the servants.

I've checked, and the Lutheran style of Christianity used in Scandinavia does indeed have the Eucharist.

Anna's age is based on the age of the watercress seller in Mayhew's book, _London Labour and London Poor_, and is perhaps the most well-known example from that work. This, of course, would put Elsa at eleven [no, **twelve**].

_Norwegian Folktales_ (_Norske Folkeeventyr_) is a real book, a collection of Norwegian folktales and legends collected by Peter Christen Asbjørnsen and Jørgen Moe. It came out in 1841, and if Frozen is set in 1845 (when _The Snow Queen_ came out), I will need to fudge the dates a little to make it match their ages, but nothing too drastic. I could have used _Grimm's Fairy Tales_, as they were out in time, but I decided to go for the Scandinavian one, to reflect the fact that the 19th century was a time of the resurgence of Norwegian nationalism after centuries of being dominated by the Swedish or the Danish, and so local myths and legends and traditions came to play a greater role.

If anyone's worried, I definitely don't intend to stop this story before it ends. I consider abandoning a story like giving someone a book with half the pages missing. I don't know how often I will be able to update, but I will continue to do so.

Oh, and I've done a special search for "Else" to make sure this time!

[Edited 7-May-14: Changed "Miss" to "Ma'am" when Anna is addressing Gerdason, and demoted Mrs Pedersen to assistant cook.]

[Edited 22-July-14: Removed two "okays" as the term was not in use then, and changed "meeting" to "receiving" the nobles.]

[Edited 30-Mar-15: Fixed some minor errors, including Anna's mother's fate]

[Edited 5 May 2015: A guest reviewer (which means I cannot respond directly) has noted that if we use the semi-canon birthdates of Dec. 21 and July 21 for Elsa and Anna, then at this point Elsa is actually four years older than Anna. This is quite correct, and I appreciate the note. The reason for the discrepancy is that this chapter was written before I was made aware of Jennifer Lee's statement. At any rate, I do not mention Elsa's age anywhere in the actual text, so feel free to see her as twelve. That works better, frankly.  
However, I can find nothing to substantiate the claim that _Frozen Fever_ is set in 1840. There are references to one claim on Google+ (all the same claim from the wording) but I cannot access the original claim. I have also found a sub-reddit that says FF is set in 1840 because that is the date on the map shown. However all that means is that _FF_ cannot be set before then. There's no reason why the map has to be drawn that year, after all. And Lee has stated that _Frozen_ itself is set in the 1840s. So if we accept her statement about birthdates, we also have to accept her statement about being set in the 1840s. Therefore, barring stronger proof, I believe that my date for _Frozen_ of 1845 is acceptable.]


	4. To Change a Fate

**4\. To Change a Fate**

"Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty!"

Anna was startled into wakefulness by the sudden loud call. For a moment she felt disoriented, wondering where she was. She wasn't at home, that was for sure—the bed was too soft, the blankets too warm. Instead, she found herself lying in a narrow iron bed, in a small room with whitewashed walls, under a steeply sloping roof with a small triangular dormer window, out of which she could see the night sky. Another bed was positioned against the opposite wall, and Anna realised it was also occupied by a girl, not much older than she was, who was already sitting up and beginning her morning toilet.

"Uh, good morning," Anna ventured. She wasn't sure who this girl was, but she had been told she'd be sharing, so she wasn't surprised to see someone.

"Hurry up, lazybones," the other girl said, drying her face. "How long d'ya fancy laying about in bed, yer Majesty?"

"Sorry," Anna said, reluctantly leaving the warm bed for the chilly room. It was still warmer than her own home however—for one thing, there were no draughts. "My name's Anna. What's yours?"

"Hilde. Hurry up, or Gerdason'll have your guts for garters."

"Sorry," Anna said again. She was dressed in a few moments, then made her bed after the other girl reminded her harshly.

"I'm sure glad you're here, girl," Hilde said as they were heading down the steep narrow back stairs to the kitchens.

"Why are you glad?"

"Because now there's finally someone else to be the scullery maid. Took bloody long enough, it did. Everyone kept saying the king an' the queen, they're not bringing on new staff, an' they laid off lots of the old. So I was thinking I'd never get quit of that drudgery. But now you're here, and I can finally get promoted to kitchen maid."

"You can get promoted?"

Hilde stopped and stared at the younger girl. "Of course you can, silly. Not even old Gerdason herself started off as a head housekeeper! Nuh-uh. She might look all high and grand and powerful, but she started off a scull'y maid like me—like I was. And now she's in charge of everything, along with Mr Kaisson, the butler. And that's gonna be me in twenty or thirty years, you just watch. Large and in charge! But in the meantime, I gotta train you, so don't you be messing up on me, y'hear, or I'll make your life so miserable you'll wish you were out on the streets begging for a living!"

"Of course not, Miss Hilde," Anna said quietly. "I will work hard, I promise."

"Miss Hilde, yeah," the other girl said with a smirk. "Very well. Mind you do."

Hilde pushed open the door to the kitchens, and they entered the cold, dark room.

"There's no one here," Anna said, looking around.

"Of course not, dopey. Now get the fire going here, then clean out and blacken the grates and light the fires upstairs. The fire stuff is there, in that cupboard, in the green box. Well, it was green, once. Coals an' stuff's back in that room, with the coal-bucket. And girl, when you go upstairs, remember to be very quiet! Don't you dare wake the family! And don't enter the princess's room—she doesn't have a fire. Now get going—we don't have all day! You have to have all the fires lit before the family wakes up!"

"But which is the princess's room?" Anna called, but Hilde had already left for the pantry. Anna sighed, and looked around for the fire-lighting materials. She raked out the old coals and ash, and built up a small stack of kindling. Soon the fire was blazing merrily, starting to thaw out the frigid room. Anna added coals, and took a moment to stretch out her hands, enjoying the rare luxury of heat in winter.

"What are you doing, yer Royal Highness? Get moving, girl!"

Anna jumped as Hilde cuffed her on the head, and bowed. "Sorry, Miss Hilde. Right away!"

"When you've done the fires, bedrooms first then the breakfast room, the library, the hall, and the study, empty and clean the chamber pots in the servants' quarters, then help prepare the servants' breakfast. And don't waste time! Or Mrs G'll toss you back out on the streets. You want that?"

"No, Miss Hilde!" Anna gasped, her stomach twisting at the thought. She grabbed the bucket of coals and the fire-lighting box, and hurried up the narrow wooden steps to the bedrooms of the royal family. Easing the small door open, she found herself in a long corridor, with large triangular dormers along one side and cheerfully-painted doors, decorated with flowers and vines, along the other. Careful not to make a sound, she tiptoed along the floor, admiring the paintings that hung on the inner wall. Then she eased open one of the great double doors and slipped into the king's chamber.

"Who goes there?" came a low whisper, startling her.

"Please sir, I'm Anna, sir," she whispered back, seeing a dim figure seated in a chair near the bed. "The new scullery maid."

"Don't wake the king," the guard said softly, motioning towards the fireplace. Anna nodded, and carefully began to clear out the ashes and clean the grate. It took longer than usual, as she was terrified of making a noise. But she soon had a small fire blazing happily in the hearth, and, with a quick curtsey to the sleeping monarch, she tiptoed out of the room.

She did the same thing in the next room, which was the queen's bedchamber, then the next room, before heading downstairs to light the fires in the main rooms. Those were much easier to light, as she didn't have to be so quiet. Anna found it hard to concentrate on her work, however, as she was overawed by the sumptuousness of her surroundings. This was so, so very much better than trudging through the frozen streets, her feet aching, feeling like lumps of ice, and getting ignored or cursed at for the temerity of addressing her betters to try to sell them matches. Now she was warm, well-dressed, living in a palace, and soon she would be fed as well. Life was good.

* * *

Elsa murmured in her sleep, dreaming of summer. She was eating an ice cream dessert, topped with fresh strawberries, but it was melting faster than she could eat it, shrinking and shrinking until it had all melted and she leaned over further and further to get at the remaining ice cream until she toppled over and fell with a sudden splash into the sweet warm milk left behind.

Startled, Elsa's eyes flew open. The room seemed strangely brighter and warmer than normal, but it still took her sleepy brain a few moments to realize why. What in the world? The fire was lit! But… why was the fire lit? The entire staff knew her order that no fires be lit in her room, and that no servants enter without express permission while she was in there.

Her maid Astrid knocked and entered, carrying her tray of fresh water. "And a very good morning to you, Highness," she said. Then she stopped, and glanced over at the fireplace. "Highness? Did you wish for a fire this morning?"

"I did not, Astrid," Elsa said. "Who has gone against my orders?"

"I confess I do not know, Highness. Unless it was the new scullery maid."

"The new scullery maid?"

"I do not recall her name, Highness. She only started this morning. Young girl, strawberry-blonde hair."

"Oh, of course! Anna!"

"Ah, yes, I believe that is her name, Highness. Do not worry; I shall ensure that she is punished."

"No!" Elsa almost shouted. She saw the shock on her maid's expression and took a deep breath. "No. It is her first day. Let her be. And do not mention this to her, or to anyone. Understood?"

"Perfectly, Highness. Would you like to wear the green dress today?"

"No. Wait, the green? I don't care. Whatever seems suitable, Astrid," Elsa said, her mind on other things. Anna had been in her room, while she lay asleep. She had seen her sleeping, tucked in her warm, soft bed as Anna herself was hard at work. For some reason, the thought made Elsa feel slightly guilty. She decided not to mention the fire to anyone else, and to order that no one stop her from coming into her room in the future. Anna need never know she had disobeyed a royal command.

* * *

The clock was just striking nine at night as Anna wearily climbed the steep stairs to the attic level, and fell into her bed with a long sigh of exhaustion. It had been a very wearying day. After lighting all the fires and dealing with the chamber pots, she had had to help prepare and serve the servants' breakfast, eat her own, then clean and scour all the pots and pans, kettles, and other kitchen utensils, help the kitchen maid, Hilde, with preparing vegetables, and then, after a hearty lunch eaten in the kitchen, she spent the afternoon on her hands and knees cleaning the kitchen, the servants' hall, the housekeeper's office and the other rooms of the service level, and also helping prepare tea and supper in between. Anna's knees were sore and her hands were reddened, but, she reminded herself, she was warm, well-fed, and she was going to sleep in a soft, clean bed with real sheets and pillows.

"Hey, you asleep?" came Hilde's voice, interrupting Anna's thoughts.

"No, Miss Hilde," Anna said, sitting upright as the older girl entered.

"So how'd you like your first day here?"

"Tiring," Anna said truthfully.

Hilde laughed. "Don't I right know it. I was a scull'y maid for three years. I'm really glad you're here, so I could move up. We really don't have near enough servants here."

"Why not?" Anna asked. "I mean, this is the royal castle, so why so few servants?"

Hilde shrugged. "Don't know. Maybe their majesties aren't that rich?"

"Not rich!" Anna exclaimed. "They're the king and queen of Arendelle!"

"Maybe, but I heard from my cousin's husband who visited Stockholm that the king there has a much grander palace, and hundreds of servants."

"Hundreds! Blimey! What do they do all day?"

"Search me," Hilde said, clearly not all that concerned. "I'm going to read for a bit. Ain't you going to get dressed for bed?"

"Oh." Anna glanced down at her maid's frock, which she had forgotten about—she was so used to sleeping in the same clothes she wore in the daytime. She quickly stripped it off, replacing it with the warm woollen nightgown she had been issued. Then she propped up her pillow and took out her precious copy of _Norwegian Folktales_, opening it to the first story, "Boots and the Troll."

"Whatcha reading?" Hilde asked after a while.

Anna showed her the cover.

"Any good?"

"I just started it," Anna explained. "I only got it yesterday."

"Hey, that looks real expensive," Hilde said. "How'd one like you afford that?"

"Uh, it was a… a present," Anna said, not wanting to mention Princess Elsa.

"Right. Of course. A present," Hilde said. "Just a word of warning. Anyone caught stealing is tossed out immediately, that moment. Mrs Gerdason won't stand for that, and nor will Mr Kaisson. So mind you don't borrow any books without permission, y'hear?"

"I didn't borrow this!" Anna exclaimed, her cheeks flushed. "Or steal it!"

"I didn't say you did," Hilde told her with a shrug. "I'm just saying, you might want to return any items you shouldn't have to their proper place afore they're missed, 'tis all."

Anna bit back a retort, not wanting to make an enemy of the girl she had to share a room with. "I don't steal," she said instead. "I'm an honest girl."

She ran her hand over the book's cover, feeling the smooth leather, tracing her fingers over the embossed lettering inlaid with gold, and sighed. It was certainly an elegant, beautiful book, too beautiful for the likes of her. Should she try and return it to the princess? How could she? It would be the height of rudeness to reject her gift like that. But if people thought she had stolen it, if they thought she was a thief, she would be thrown back out onto the cold, harsh streets without a second's thought. It wasn't worth it. Nothing was. So she carefully placed the book in her drawer, resolving to discretely slip it into the library when she had the chance. The princess would never notice, and no one would suspect she had obtained it dishonestly. Her heart heavy at the thought of having to give up her one luxury, Anna lay down on the thin pillow and was soon asleep, her physical exhaustion overcoming her anxious heart.

* * *

"Hurry up, or you'll be late!"

Anna's eyes flew open at the sound of Hilde's voice. It felt like she had only just closed them. She quickly washed her face and got dressed, then hurried down to the kitchen to get the fires going. Once those were done, she lugged her coal-bucket and box of tinder upstairs to do the royal family's rooms.

The fires in the king and queen's room safely lit, Anna eased open the door to the princess's room and slipped inside. She could make out the small form of the young girl under the covers in the four-poster that dominated the room, her pale blonde hair almost seeming to glow in the dim light of the aurora that penetrated the thick velvet curtains.

Carefully, Anna tiptoed to the fireplace, and started raking out the ashes from the previous day, then wiped and polished the grate. Then she piled the old paper and kindling, and struck a match.

"Good morning, Anna."

Startled, Anna leapt up to curtsey and dropped the match. It landed on the hearthrug, and she quickly tried to smother it, knocking over the pail of ashes in the process and covering the rug in grey soot. Anna stared in horror at the mess, her eyes wide in shock and fear, and felt her heart race and tears form. What had she done! She'd woken the princess! After being told so strictly not to make a sound! And she'd burned the rug and covered it in ashes! She'd be lucky to be just thrown back on the streets after this! For what she'd done, she might even be tossed in a dungeon!

"My... my…. Highness, I… I am so sorry, I didn't want to wake you, or ruin the rug, or nothing!" Anna gasped, dropping to the floor and prostrating herself, tears flowing freely. Her life was over. And so soon after it had begun. She waited, her body tense, for the scolding she knew she would receive.

Instead, to her surprise, she heard a different sound. It took Anna's fear-stricken brain a few seconds to work out what the noise was, and when she realized, she was astounded. It was giggling. The princess was actually laughing.

"I do apologize, Anna," Elsa said, slipping out of her bed and padding across to the younger girl. "This was entirely my fault. I should not have startled you so. Do stand up, please. I so hate talking down to someone's bowed head. There, that's better. Now dry your tears."

Anna rubbed at her eyes, but only managed to smear soot over her face. It got in her eyes, and made them sting, leading to fresh tears, and panic that the princess would think she was disobeying an order. She kept her eyes tightly shut, trying to hold back the pain, but then felt a gentle, cool touch on them, the sensation of a soft damp cloth brushing against them.

"Hold still," the princess said as Anna tried to open her eyes. "Nearly done. There."

Anna blinked, and gazed up at the princess, who was smiling at her, holding a silk handkerchief that was now smeared with ash and soot.

"Now wipe your hands, and we'll see about getting the ash cleaned up," the princess said, handing Anna the handkerchief before she could react.

"Highness, I am so, so dreadfully sorry!" Anna exclaimed once she could get her mouth working again. "Please don't throw me out! It won't happen again! I promise! Please, I don't want to be out in the cold again! I'll do anything, please!"

"Relax, Anna," Elsa said. "You didn't wake me. I actually woke up early especially to see you."

"See me, Highness?" Anna gasped.

Elsa smiled. "I was most surprised to wake up yesterday morning to find a blazing fire in my room. Especially as I have given orders that no fires be lit here."

Anna gasped inadvertently, then covered her mouth with her hand as she remembered what Hilde had told her that first morning. Not to enter the princess's room! She hadn't even known whose rooms she had lit fires in – and had completely forgotten that one of them she wasn't supposed to have been in in the first place.

"Highness, I… I am so sorry for that," Anna stumbled out, but Elsa held up a pale, slim hand and smiled.

"Anna, relax. I'm not angry. After all, you've never served in a great house before, and it was your first morning. We all make mistakes. We all do," she added, her face suddenly downcast. "But to err is human. And while I am not divine, I can still forgive. So please, Anna, no more tears. It makes me sad to see you sad."

"You are too good to me, Highness," Anna said, casting her eyes down.

"I'm really not doing anything special, you know," Elsa said. She paused, and reached out to as if to touch Anna, but snatched her hand away at the last second. Anna felt a cold breeze from somewhere, and suddenly remembered she still had a lot of work to do.

"Highness, please, excuse me. I must complete my duties."

The princess took a step back, and Anna could hear what sounded almost like a sigh. "Of course. Oh, and Anna?"

"Highness?"

"I think I would like a fire in my room each morning, after all. See to it, will you?"

Anna glanced up, and caught a wide, welcoming smile on the princess's face as she stood there regally, her hands clasped behind her back. Unable to help herself, she dared to smile back. "Thank you, Highness."

* * *

Elsa watched the serving girl close the door, then brought her hands out to look at them. They were covered in a thin film of ice. With a quick gesture of frustration, she removed the ice, sending a tiny flurry up to the ceiling where it dispersed into crystals, and got back under the covers for another hour or so in bed before Astrid would arrive. But sleep eluded her. Anna seemed, in a way, to be her mirror opposite: from a mere accident of birth, she was everything that Elsa was not. Yet, the princess felt, in even more important ways, Anna might be a mirror of her. Elsa's curse, her touch of ice and snow, kept people away as surely as the dirtiest, poorest rags. Behind the walls of the castle, imprisoned by her mysterious power, she was even more invisible than a beggar, with even less freedom. Perhaps by giving Anna a new life, changing her fate, she could allow herself the hope that one day she, too, might be able to change her fate.

.

* * *

**NOTES:**

Remember, back in the Victorian era, "toilet" referred to personal grooming, washing, dressing, etc. Which is why we still have the term "toiletries." Otherwise it would create a VERY different image (imagine this quote with the modern usage: "Three women got down and standing on the curb they made unabashed toilets" (William Faulkner).).

The details of a scullery maid's duties are taken from a blog on Jane Austen, the PBS website for the program Manor House, and quotes from books like The Complete Servant, written in the 19th century. I've actually skipped over a lot of the minor or more repetitive duties: the life of a scullery maid was far from pleasant, and she was lucky if she got an hour or two to herself each day, with perhaps a half-holiday every week. It was not, however, generally a job for life, thankfully.

Ice cream has been popular in Europe since the 18th century. It was not served in cones, however, until the late 19th century, so in Elsa's dream she would have been eating it from a dish.

"Kai" has been modified to a surname as "Kaisson." Incidentally, in North Germanic languages, which includes Norwegian, Kai means "keeper of the keys; earth". Perfect for a butler (well, for the "keys" part at least).

At the time this story is set (1836, based on Elsa being 21 in 1845, so 12 in 1836 [turning 13 in December]), Norway was ruled from Sweden in a personal union, from 1814 to 1905. So rather than Oslo, the monarch would have resided in Stockholm. The king at this time would have been Charles XIV John of Sweden, aka Charles III John of Norway. And was in fact elected to the position, being French by birth.

"Boots and the Troll" is indeed the first story in Asbjørnsen and Moe's _Norwegian Folktales_.

Oh, and despite what Disney might like to imagine, _Sleeping Beauty_ did exist before Walt did. It first appeared as Charles Perrault's story way back in 1697, and later by the Brothers Grimm in 1812. So it's perfectly possible it was common knowledge in the 1830s (and yes, I am very interested in seeing _Maleficent_ \- the trailers make it look _Magnificent_...).

Anyway, sorry for the long delay. It's been a busy month. Any spelling errors, mistakes, garbled nonsense, you detect, feel free to sing out, along with any other critiques or comments you might have.

[Posted 30 March 2014]

[Edited 30 March to fix "Esla". Why does that name give me such trouble?]

[Edited: 21 April 2015: "to order tha_n_ no one"?! How did I miss this for over a year?]


	5. The Least of My Brethren

**5\. The Least of My Brethren**

In her room that night, getting undressed for bed, Anna found a dirty grey piece of cloth in her pocket. She pulled it out, wondering what it was, then remembered: it was the princess's silk handkerchief, the one she had used to wipe her eyes with. She would have to wash it and return it. Anna poured a bit of water from the jug into the tin bowl on her chest of drawers, and started scrubbing at the silk cloth. The water was barely above freezing, and she had no soap, but Anna kept on rubbing at it, ignoring the pain in her reddened hands, until the handkerchief was almost pure white again. She wrung it out and hung it before the fire, holding her hands out to try and thaw them out again as she thought about the princess, and how kind and gentle she was.

The door banged open, and Anna quickly snatched the still-damp handkerchief from the railing by the fire and shoved it up her sleeve as she turned to face Hilde.

"Good evening, Miss Hilde," she said as the older girl flopped down on her bed, still wearing her shoes.

"Oh, I am so tired," Hilde said. "Chef Escoffier was in a right foul mood tonight. You heard him, right?"

"I did," Anna said, repressing a smile. She was glad that she was just a lowly scullery maid and could largely keep out of the way of the _chef de cuisine_ of the royal household. "Did he manage to get a new soufflé done in time, Miss Hilde?"

"Just. It was touch and go for a moment," she said, and giggled briefly. "Oh, and you can knock off the Miss, really. I was just leading you on. Honest, I didn't never think you'd really think I was a Miss. Not least 'til I make lady's maid. Say, what were you doing poking around in front of the fire?"

"Just getting warm, Mi—Hilde," Anna said, moving to her own bed and slipping between the covers. She pulled the handkerchief out from her sleeve, and tucked it down her front where it wouldn't get so wrinkled. It was still a little cold on her skin, but soon warmed up.

* * *

Elsa yawned and stretched as Astrid gently slid the curtains open, revealing the dark pre-dawn sky of the Arendelle winter. There was a small fire crackling merrily in the fireplace, and Elsa smiled as she saw the flames lick at the coals: it showed that Anna had been in her room, tip-toeing on nervous feet no doubt, and probably scared that the princess was going to be awake. Elsa had considered setting her alarm to catch Anna when she arrived, but she had decided that for the moment it might be better to let the new girl get settled into her routine, and not have to worry about whether she'd have to make small talk with a princess each morning. Another, not insignificant, factor was that it was also rather early for the young princess to wake up.

"Good morning, Highness," the lady's maid said, curtseying.

"Astrid," Elsa said, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. "Morning."

"I see the fire has been lit, Highness," Astrid commented. "It does make the room more warm and cheery, if you don't mind me saying so."

Elsa glanced around her bedroom, and shrugged. "Perhaps. The cold never bothered me, anyway. But I suppose it helps keep the water jug from freezing."

She slipped out of bed and splashed some water on her face, wiping the sleep from her eyes. Then she noticed a small, neatly-folded white cloth on her dresser.

"What's that?" she asked.

"I do not know, Highness," Astrid said. The maid picked it up, and started to unfold it. "Ah, it's one of your handkerchiefs. Now what's it doing there? It also appears rather dirty."

"Oh!" Elsa gasped, recognizing it, and suddenly realizing who must have brought it in. It was still a little grey in places, but had clearly been carefully washed and folded. She spotted a small bit of dark green plant flutter down from the handkerchief as Astrid opened it out fully, pursing her lips at the grey stains. "What was inside?" she asked.

The maid bent down and picked it up. "It's just a bit of dead shrub or something. I'll toss it out."

"No!" Elsa gasped, making a grab for the plant.

Astrid gasped and jumped back, fear on her face as a small spike of ice stabbed down and splintered on the floor.

"Oh my God!" Elsa cried, her pale face even whiter than normal. "Oh, I am so sorry, Astrid! I didn't mean to! I'm sorry!"

"I… I'm not hurt, Highness," Astrid said, warily eyeing the shattered shards. "There's nothing to worry about."

Elsa bit her lip, willing herself not to weep as her fingers started to frost over. "Get me my gloves," she said, keeping her voice calm with an effort. "Now."

"Yes, Highness," Astrid said, going over to the princess's dressing-table.

Elsa took a deep breath and closed her eyes, letting visions of precise geometrical shapes dance through her mind. Their regular order and symmetry helped her relax, find the inner peace she needed to control her powers. She was always fighting so hard to retain control, but whenever she was scared or afraid or felt some other intense emotion the ice would come out, and she couldn't control it. And the more she worried about controlling it, the harder it was to control.

She felt the ice on her fingers melt, and breathed a small sigh of relief. Then she bent down and picked up the handkerchief from where it had fallen, along with the plant, which she recognized as a small sprig of rosemary. She quickly laid it on the table before any ice could form. Then Elsa pressed the silk fabric to her nose, and inhaled, catching a faint scent of rosemary. She smiled, and refolded the handkerchief with the rosemary tucked carefully inside it, as Astrid returned with her gloves.

"Oh, the ice has melted already, Highness," the maid said. "I shall fetch the scullery maid to take care of the puddle while I dress you."

"No, I'll do it," Elsa said, a bit too quickly. She took a breath. "It's my ice that made the puddle, after all."

"Highness, you should not have to clean up! The servants are here for that," Astrid said, stooping quickly with a cloth from her pocket as Elsa stood there, her hands clamped under her arms. Then, once the water was mopped up, she allowed Astrid to hand her the gloves, which she dragged on quickly, breathing a slight sigh of relief when her hands were once again fully covered.

"Is that better, Highness?" Astrid asked, looking up at the girl with sympathy in her eyes.

"Yes, thanks. I think it best that I wear them any time someone is in my room as well," Elsa said in a quiet voice. "I'm going to the library: tell the staff to bring me my breakfast there."

"But the king and queen will be expecting you, Highness," Astrid said.

"Tell them… tell them I had a slight accident," Elsa said. "They'll understand why I need to be alone for a while."

* * *

Anna finished up her breakfast quickly, then hurried up to her room. She had a brief bit of time before her next task, and dared not risk someone finding the book before she could return it: she did not have a key to her room, and it was liable for inspection at any time. With trembling hands, she extracted the precious book, and quickly shoved it down the front of her pinafore. She hated the idea of returning it, but she was terrified of being considered a thief and turned out into the cold winter streets. She couldn't go back there again—anything was better than that, any sacrifice was worth it if it meant she could be warm and fed.

Tip-toeing down the servants' staircase, Anna listened at the green baize door that divided the world of the servants from that of their masters, then eased it open. There was no one in sight. Her heart beating, Anna tip-toed along the corridor, then ducked into the alcove where the rear door to the library was. Again she listened for any sounds, then eased the door open, her heart jumping into her mouth at the slight squeak it made.

She slipped into the gloomy library, which was lit only by a few gas lamps, the shutters permanently pulled together. Glancing quickly around the room, she exhaled in relief: there was no one else here. Anna eased the book out from its uncomfortable nest down her front, and looked around for a suitable place in which to slip it. The library shelves were well-stocked, but to Anna's dismay, they were fronted with ornate grilled cabinet doors. Could she slip the book between the slim wrought iron traceries? No, she realized. She would have to put it on one of the desks and hope that was enough. She moved over towards the nearest one, and heard a board groan under her foot.

"Who's there?" came a voice, and Anna's heart stopped, blind panic overwhelming her. Should she run? Where to? In the few seconds she stood there in indecisive fear, a pale blonde head appeared above a high-backed leather chair, and dark blue eyes turned on her. They widened in surprise.

"Anna? What are you doing here?"

"Hi—Highness! I'm sorry! I—I can explain! Please, I wasn't trying to steal, honest!"

"Steal? Anna, what have you got in your hands?" Elsa asked.

"The… the book you gave me, Highness," Anna stammered out, her heart beating.

"The book? _Norwegian Folktales_? Have you finished it already?"

"N—no, Highness."

"Wait… don't you like it?" Elsa asked, her brow furrowing.

"No Highness, I mean yes, Highness, I mean I like it a lot, Highness," Anna gasped.

"So what are you doing with it here?"

"I… I was scared, Highness."

"Of what? Of the book?"

Anna shook her head violently, sending her strawberry-blonde pigtails flying.

"Anna, you're not making sense. You didn't come down to read the book here, did you? Because you know that is not permitted, right?"

Anna nodded furiously. "Of course, Highness. I wouldn't never ever dare to, Highness!"

"Anna, come here, and do please stop looking so scared. I'm not angry at you, I'm just curious."

Trying not to weep from fear, Anna slowly walked over to where the princess sat, an open book on her lap.

"So what are you doing here, then?" Elsa asked.

"I… I was afraid that… that people might think I stealed this book, Highness."

"Stole it? Why on earth would they think that?"

"Because… because it's too good for the likes of me," Anna said.

"Too good? What do you mean?"

"It's a fancy book, Highness. With leather an' gold an' pretty pictures in colour. I couldn't never buy a book like this. An' I don't want nobody to think I stealed—stole it."

"Did someone accuse you of stealing it, Anna?" Elsa asked, her eyes narrow.

Anna shook her head. "No, Highness. Leastways, not yet. But it's too fancy to be a serving girl's book, an' I don't want to be thrown out again, please, so I thought I best put it in the library."

"But I gave that to you-it's yours," Elsa told her.

"I know, Highness, and I'm ever so grateful, honest I am. But who's gonna believe me if they catch me with such a fancy book?"

"I see," Elsa said, and sighed. "In that case—"

With a quick knock, the door suddenly opened and the butler walked in. "Highness, pardon the intrusion, but it is time for your French lessons."

"Oh, already?" Elsa said. She closed her book and stood up as Kaisson fixed Anna with a glare.

"What on Earth do you think you are doing? Leave this room immediately!" he ordered. "I am so sorry, Your Highness. This will not happen again." He gestured imperiously to Anna. "Girl! I shall have Mrs Gerdason reprimand you about your duties, and to ensure the lesson remains, you shall have no supper tonight."

"I…. Yes, sir," Anna said, trembling. "I'm sorry."

Elsa raised a hand. "Kaisson, Anna is here because I summoned her. She was… she was…." Elsa started to say, then tailed off.

"I was bringing the princess her book, sir," Anna quickly explained. She held up the volume she was holding. "This book, sir."

"Ah, yes, that book," Elsa said, and to Anna it seemed almost as if the princess had given her a conspiratorial half-smile, on the side of her face away from the butler. "Uh, put it on the table, then. You had best return to your duties. And don't worry, you will not be punished for being in here, because I ordered you to come."

"Of course she will not, Highness," Kaisson said with a bow. "By your leave," he added, and left the room.

"You're a quick thinker, Anna," Elsa said, holding her gloved hands behind her. "Don't worry about the book—I understand your problem. I would hate to put you in an awkward position."

"You are so good to me, Highness," Anna said. "To treat a scullery maid so."

"That which thou doeth unto the least of my brethren, thou doeth unto me," Elsa quoted. "Now you best be off."

Anna was slightly confused—she was sure that the princess was an only child, but curtseyed and quickly left.

Alone again, Elsa picked up the book, and let it fall open on her lap. She saw a small strip of torn newspaper that had been used as a simple bookmark, and smiled, fingering it. Then she picked the book up and took it to the writing desk, where she dipped a pen into the inkwell and wrote something inside the cover, before moving over to the bell-pull, to which she gave a quick tug. In a few moments, Astrid knocked and entered.

"Send for Mrs Gerdason, please," Elsa asked.

* * *

"Now, are there any more announcements before I say Grace?" Kaisson asked, looking around the table in the servants' hall at supper that evening.

"I have one, actually," Gerdason said. "Anna, you mustn't leave your things lying around. I found this where it wasn't supposed to be." She laid a rectangular brown object on the table. To her astonishment Anna, who was standing nearby to help serve the servants' dinner, recognized the leather-bound copy of _Norwegian Folktales_ she had returned to the princess.

"I… that book… I didn't—I don't, that is…." Anna stammered, her surprise tripping up her tongue.

"This is yours, is it not?" Gerdason asked. "It has your name in it, after all. You can't deny it. So come and take it."

Anna glanced briefly at Hilde, whose eyebrows were slightly raised, and took the book from the table. Curious, she opened the cover, and found an inscription on the flyleaf. In an elegant, well-practiced hand, it read _This book belongs to Anna_. Realizing who must have written it, and why, Anna traced the flowing copperplate curves with a finger that was slightly shaking, and swallowed.

"Well, what do you say?" Gerdason said, her grey eyes gazing directly into Anna's blue-green ones.

"My… I…. I don't…. Thank you, so much," Anna said. "I am very grateful, honest. I won't let this happen again."

"Good. It's just as well it was I who found it, and not, say, Her Highness."

"I wouldn't never want to upset the princess, ma'am," Anna said hastily. She looked directly at the housekeeper's face, seeing a slight knowing smile. "I mean, she's been so very generous to me."

"Indeed she has."

"The entire royal family is generous," Kaisson interjected. "To all of us," he added, looking around the room. "And now I think we can return to the business of supper. Eyes closed, please, for the blessing."

* * *

That night, when the last of her chores were finally finished, Anna climbed the narrow stairs to the attic and slipped into her room. Hilde was already there, re-reading a magazine that was a month out of date. Anna fished the book out of her apron pocket and put it ostentatiously on her bedside dresser before getting ready for bed.

"I guess that was your book after all," Hilde said, glancing over at Anna.

"Uh, it has my name in it," Anna said. "See?"

"Very nice writing," Hilde commented. "I never knew beggar girls were instructed in penmanship."

"I'm not a beggar!" Anna countered hotly. "I never was no beggar, neither!"

"If you say so," Hilde said, shrugging. "So what were you?"

"I sold matches," Anna said. "I was an honest salesgirl, I was."

"Match-girls ain't no better'n beggars," Hilde said, making a face. "They're just a sort of respectable beggar."

"We are not!" Anna retorted. "Beggars, that is. We is respectable. I had a profession, I did. I made money."

Hilde laughed. "Oh yeah? How much?"

There was a short silence. "Not much," Anna eventually said. "And Pappa got angry sometimes."

Hilde rolled over on her side, and looked over at the younger girl. "Things are much nicer here for you, are they?" she asked quietly.

"They are," Anna said, thinking of how the princess had talked to her so kindly, and made sure she could keep her book. "Everyone's real kind. Especially Her Highness."

"Wait? The princess? Kind?" Hilde laughed. "You have to be kidding me!"

"What? She is too kind! You take that back!"

"What could you know? You don't barely know her," Hilde said.

"I do know her! I've met her! She's very kind and polite!" Anna shot back.

"You've been here what, a couple of days? Probably just grateful people aren't yelling at you? Look, girl, don't mistake politeness for kindness. The princess is polite all right, like a proper princess should be. But she definitely ain't a warm-hearted person. 'Round here, we call her the Ice Princess."

"Ice Princess? That's just dumb!" Anna said.

"Maybe," Hilde said. "But take it from me, you do not want to anger the princess. You just don't."

.

* * *

**WORDMANGLER'S LECTURE NOTES:**

Sorry for the delay. Life is busy, and it's hard to get time to write. This is more of a character-based filler chapter, but there is a plot to this story….

The title, and Elsa's quote, is from the Bible, Matthew 25:40. This was a time when religion was much more dominant than it is now, and it would be expected that a princess, at least, would be quite familiar with the Bible. And she would almost certainly be required to learn French, as well as Latin probably. Might even be taught a bit of Greek.

While Downton Abbey has Mrs Patmore, a royal household (especially from this period) would be more likely to use a male cook. I have decided that Arendelle has imported their very own French chef. I have pinched the name from the very real and very famous chef Auguste Escoffier – he might be a bit too famous, but we can pretend this was Auguste's father or uncle or something. The royal family only deserves the best, after all…

Servants' sections were divided from the rest of the house by a door that was often covered in green baize, the same material used on billiard tables, as a sound-deadening measure. Houses were designed to separate the working servants and the family and their guests as much as possible—not just because servants should do their work unseen and not sully the grand areas, but so that servants could move around without constantly running into and having to stop their work to properly greet the family.

Gas lighting took off in Britain in the early 19th century, so I expect a royal palace in Europe would have it as well. The library shelves with their cabinet grills are modelled off the Blenheim Palace library. I assume this was a security measure.

Fountain pens didn't really start to take off until the 1830s in England, so I assume they wouldn't arrive in Arendelle for a good decade or more. In fact, they didn't become popular until the 1850s or later. In addition, the early fountain pens weren't as easy to use as they are now, so I have had Elsa use a dip pen.

If you find any typos I missed, feel free to yell out. And the next chapter should be up in another fortnight...

[Edited 7-May-14: Minor grammar and style changes]

[Edited 22-July-14: What, "I shall take fetch"? Dear me no. Fixed that boo-boo.]


	6. Butterfly Dreams

**6\. Butterfly Dreams**

After a month, Anna had settled in nicely to her new life. It was hard, sometimes bitterly so, but no matter how painful her workload was, no matter how many buckets and mops she lugged up and down the narrow service stairs, how many chamber-pots she had to empty, or how many filthy pots and pans she had to scrub, she always knew that she would get a warm meal and a clean bed at the end of it. And that no matter how much she was shouted at, nobody would beat her beyond a quick cuff around the ears. She chatted with Hilde a lot, and some of the other lower-ranking servants, including Kristoff when she met him making a delivery. There were also the occasional glimpses of the young princess, usually from a distance, or when the princess was still asleep. But sometimes—not often, but sometimes—she would be awake when Anna would tiptoe into her room early in the morning, and, after the fire was lit, would ask the scullery maid about her new life. Sometimes she would also comment on a book she was reading, or ask Anna some other simple question before the maid had to leave.

At first Anna had been startled, then apprehensive, about these early-morning encounters with the royal child, but she gradually came to welcome them, and even look forward to them. The princess seemed very kind and generous. She had no idea why the servants seemed to consider her to be cold and heartless, an Ice Princess. So one day in early February, when she encountered Hans in the basement passageway, she decided to ask him.

"Yeah, well, we're not supposed to discuss the family behind their backs," he told her. "Or in front of 'em, come to think of it."

"But she's always been so nice to me," Anna said. "I mean, I know she's a princess an' all, and we're not having tea parties or nothing, but she's sweet. Hilde says that's just her being polite, but—"

"Polite? Why'd a princess need to be polite to the likes of us?" Hans interrupted, making a face. "We're just servants. Them upstairs don't care about us one way or the other. As for the Ice Princess? She's just polite because it's what she's trained to be. She never talks to any of us more than she can help. Even less than the other royals. You can tell she doesn't want us anywhere near. It's the way she looks at us, avoids us. It's as if we're not even really human. Or maybe she isn't really human."

"That's rot!" Anna shot back. "She is too human!"

"Not much of one," Hans said. "She's an automaton who cares more about her lessons and her science stuff than she does about people. She prefers the company of books by men dead a hundred years to playing like a normal girl. She always wears those long gloves, like she can't bear to touch stuff, like she's too grand to get her hands dirty. She spends all her time in her room, or the library, and never, ever leaves the castle if she can help."

"She's always been real kind to me. Maybe she just doesn't like _you_!" Anna retorted.

Hans shrugged. "Ask anyone. They'll all tell you the same thing."

"She saved my life, y'know!" Anna shot.

"Maybe she did, though God knows why. Why she bothered, that is. Look, kid, you're new here, the bloom ain't off the rose yet. But it will be—once you've been here a year or two, once you get used to all the fancy surroundings, you'll find this ain't such a great place." He stopped, and looked around as a conspiratorial grin slowly spread across his face. "Things… happen here. There's something strange about this place. Some evil afoot."

"Evil?" Anna gasped.

"Yeah. You ever go into a room here, and it's really, really cold inside?"

Anna nodded. "It's winter. Of course it's cold."

"Yeah, but really, extra cold. More than outside. And the same thing happens in summer. Even on the hottest days there's rooms in this place that are always cold. I've seen ice, even. Upstairs, you sometimes go into a room, and it's like you stepped straight into winter. Know what I think? I think there's a ghost here."

"A gh—ghost?" Anna stammered. "Are… are you sure?"

Hans nodded, his face solemn. "The older servants, the ones who've been here for decades, they just won't talk about why the rooms are so cold. But I bet they know about the ghost, for sure. There's something… not right with this place. Why'd you think there's so few servants? You're the only new face in five years."

"I dunno. Hilde reckons they're not that rich."

Hans laughed. "Not rich? The bleeding royal family ain't rich? Now that's rich, that is. Nah, it ain't that. I reckon this place is cursed. There's something going on here. Ghost, witches, I dunno. Something's going against the laws of God here. So you be careful, okay?"

"I will, Hans," she said. "Thanks ever so much for the warning."

"Don't mention it," he said, smiling at her. Anna thought he did look rather handsome when he smiled. "Just helping out a fellow servant, sharing my wisdom. You run along now, girl—I have work to do."

"Of course. And I'll be careful," Anna said, bobbing her head and then walking away slowly towards the kitchens, thinking. Ghosts? She could easily believe it. The Royal Castle of Arendelle was clearly ancient, and while she had not had time to explore much of the grounds and the outlying buildings, some of the areas she had seen looked like they were many centuries old. Anna wondered who the ghost might be—a soldier who had died in some long-forgotten battle? A serving girl, like her? Or even a long-dead princess, roaming the halls and corridors? She shivered, drawing her thin shawl more tightly around her shoulders.

"Anna! There you are! What are you doing, daydreaming?"

The girl whirled at the sound of the housekeeper's voice. "Mrs Gerdason?"

"Haven't you cleaned the saucepans yet? Chef wants to get dinner started, and Hilde needs to wash and chop the vegetables. Hurry up!"

"Yes, Mrs Gerdason. I'm sorry. Uh, Mrs Gerdason…?"

"What is it?"

"Have you… have you heard anything about a ghost here, Ma'am?"

The elderly woman stared at Anna, then smiled. "Don't tell me! Hans has been spinning his tales again?"

"Uh, I'm not sure—he did tell me, yes."

"He's full of nonsense like that. He'll tell you anything, just to get a rise out of you."

"But what about the cold rooms?"

"It's winter in Arendelle, what did you expect?"

"But he said they're cold even in summer."

"Anna, my child, check the length of your legs."

"My legs, Ma'am?" Anna was surprised at the non sequitur. She raised her skirts above her knees, and glanced down. "They look normal to me."

Mrs Gerdason laughed. "You sure? Because Hans has really been pulling them."

"Oh." Anna dropped her skirts, and pouted. "Well, pooh to him then!"

"Don't worry about Hans. He's just teasing the new girl. Of course there aren't any ghosts here! There's nothing weird going on at all! And don't you go listening to strange stories! Now hurry up and get those pans before Chef starts throwing things. Because if he does, then I'll start throwing things at you."

Anna was startled at first, then, seeing the housekeeper's smile, she smiled back and hurried off.

* * *

"Your hot chocolate, Highness."

Elsa looked up from her book as the butler approached silently across her bedroom floor that evening.

"Thank you, Kaisson. On the table, please."

"Very good." The butler placed the silver tray on the table beside the large leather armchair where Elsa was curled up with a book. "Will there be anything else, Your Highness?"

"That will be all for tonight," Elsa said. "Wait, no. There is one thing."

"Highness?"

"How is… how is Anna settling in?"

"You are most kind to take an interest, Highness. Young Anna is doing very well, I believe. I have seldom seen a more willing and cheerful worker. Mrs Gerdason and I almost never need to chastise her, and she only ever needs to told something once."

"Ah, I am pleased to hear that. What about the other servants? How are they treating her?"

"She is well-liked in the Servants' Hall, Highness. Very cheerful and quite the chatterbox. I am not aware of any problems there."

"I know you would have preferred we did not bring in any new staff, due to my… problem," Elsa said, holding up her gloved hands briefly. "She has not mentioned anything about… about me? In that sense?"

Kaisson shook his head. "As far as I am aware, Highness, young Anna has no idea how you saved her. She is merely grateful—very grateful, of course—that you did."

"Good. I would like to try and keep it that way. She doesn't need to know."

"The servants are aware of the prohibition on discussing your… condition with others, Highness. Any rumours that get started are immediately quashed."

"Good, good," Elsa said, fingering her book. "Has she… has she mentioned anything about her family?"

Kaisson shook his head. "No, Highness. Mrs Gerdason told me that she has mentioned her late grandmother. And I know not whether her parents be living or dead. To be honest, Highness, it is more than probable that she is an orphan. I know many of the poorer classes must take to honest work when that happens, even at such a tender age."

Elsa fidgeted with her braid. "So she's utterly alone in the world?"

"It appears so, Highness. At any rate, she shows no desire to return to her old home, and never speaks of it. I do not like to pry."

"No, of course," Elsa said. "Still, please keep me informed about anything else she might say about herself."

"Of course, Highness. Will that be all?"

"You may go. Thank you, Kaisson."

The butler bowed and left the room, leaving Elsa alone. She opened her book again, but did not read it. Instead she sat, staring at the far wall, lost in thought for a few moments. Then she carefully placed her book back on the table and walked over to the window, where she drew back the curtains and gazed out across the lights of the small city. The sun had set several hours ago, and the night sky was a deep, rich blue. High above, flowing between the stars, she could see the faint flickering green tendrils of the aurora as it drifted slowly down from its home by the Pole.

"The sky is awake again," she whispered to herself. What caused it to awaken, she wondered. And why did it always make her feel so strange inside? It always had, ever since she could remember. The Northern Lights, the mysterious _Nordlys_, seemed almost to sing to her, resonating, echoing, somewhere deep inside her; and whenever they appeared she could feel the ice within her calling back, responding to the siren song of the night.

Elsa quickly closed the curtains, shutting out that unearthly illumination, and returned to her book and the steady, homely warm glow of her oil lamp.

* * *

As the clock was striking ten, Anna staggered up the stairs, her legs and arms aching as usual, and fell into her narrow bed with a heavy sigh, burying her face in her pillow.

"Tough day, huh?"

Not even raising her head to look at Hilde, Anna nodded. "Plurbbb…" she got out, a wordless expression of exhaustion half-muffled by the sheets.

"Yeah, I'll bet," Hilde said, chuckling. She lay on her back, arms behind her head. "Starting to wish you were still free, living out there on the streets selling matches? I bet that's a lot easier. Just standing around all day asking 'Matches, sah? Wonna buy me matches? 'Ow's about a match fer yer pipe, mister?'"

"Stop that!"

"What? You don't wanna buy some matches? They's loverly matches, love," Hilde said with a grin. "Specially made for to light 'Er 'Ighness's own fires!"

"I never talk like that!" Anna said, glaring at the older girl. "Don't make fun o' the princess, neither! An' I ain't never going back to the streets. Never!" She shuddered. "Out there it's cold," she added in a quieter voice. "I hate the cold. I hate the cold so very much. I ain't never going back to being cold."

* * *

Elsa had tossed and turned most of the night, her sleep disturbed by strange dreams. She woke early, hearing a small noise, and realised Anna was just starting to clean the grate.

"Good morning, Anna," Elsa said softly.

Startled, Anna dropped her brush and stood up quickly. "Good morning, Your Highness," she said, curtseying, her eyes looking down at the floor. "I apologize for waking you."

"Don't worry, you didn't," Elsa assured her. "I was awake anyway."

"Thank you, Highness." Anna stood there nervously for a moment, glancing back at the bare fireplace.

"Don't let me stop you doing your work," Elsa said. "That's more important than remaining standing in my presence."

"Yes, Highness. Sorry, Highness," Anna said, sinking back to her knees and pulling out the ash tray.

Through sleepy, half-closed lids, the princess observed the scullery maid, seeing her hard at work. The sort of physical labour that Elsa herself had never had to perform; would live her whole life without knowing. Whereas Anna would never know the comfort and bliss of lying in a soft, eider down-filled bed until the sun was high in the sky. As she did from time to time, Elsa imagined what it would be like if they swapped places, with her being the servant and Anna being the mistress. She was sure Anna would make a good and kind mistress, at least—much more so than she was, that was for sure.

"Is your work very hard?" the princess asked.

"Uh, it can be tiring, Highness. But I am warm, get fed good food, and get these nice clothes."

Elsa suppressed a smile at Anna's description of her plain, cheap scullery maid's pinny as 'nice.' "I'm glad it's not too bad," she said. "I'm sure you have a lot of work to do each day, however. But take heart—we all do. Even I do, believe it or not."

Anna blinked. "You, Your Highness? Beg… begging your pardon, Highness, but what sort of… um…."

"What sort of work do I do?" Elsa laughed briefly. "For one thing, I have to spend my days studying."

"Studying? Do you go to school?"

"Sort of. I don't go to school with other children, however. I have a governess." She looked over at Anna, who was wiping down the grate. "Do you—did you go to school?"

Anna shook her head quickly. "No, Highness. Well, leastways just Sunday School. They taught me how to read, so I could read the Bible."

"That's it?" Elsa asked, raising an elegant eyebrow.

"Uh, yes, Y' Highness. We was poor, and they say the poor don't ought to have more learning than to read the Scriptures."

Elsa pursed her lips. "Nobody should be kept ignorant like that. It isn't right. You should be able to study what you like."

"Um… what do you study, Highness?"

"Oh, all sorts of things. Literature, and the Classics. Languages like French and Latin and English. Music. Mathematics. I like mathematics—geometry in particular."

"What's jommitry?" Anna asked as she piled paper and kindling for the fire.

"Geometry," Elsa explained. "The study of shapes. Creating and playing with different shapes." Her expression grew distant as she conjured up images of the infinite recursiveness of snowflakes, and reflected on the way that no matter how closely she looked at them through her microscope, there were still more patterns to discover, deeper and deeper, all the way down into infinity. "I like art, too," she added. "And architecture. That's about designing buildings," she added to a puzzled-looking Anna. "And then there's politics and history and diplomacy and all that sort of thing."

Anna's eyes grew round. "Gosh, that's ever so many things! Why'd you have to study all that stuff?" she asked.

"Because I'm the princess," Elsa said, with a slightly bitter smile. "One day I will have to rule Arendelle, and make all the decisions about what to do. Not just for me, or my family, but for every single person who lives here. It will be my duty to keep them all safe." She stopped, and sighed. "Sometimes I don't think I could ever do it," she said in a quieter voice. "Sometimes… I wish I had an older sister, or brother, and didn't have the responsibility, didn't have to be the perfect girl."

Elsa broke off, remembering she was only talking to a lowly serving girl. Normally the princess would never dream of being this open with the servants. It was just that for some reason Anna was so easy to talk to. Perhaps as she was the only female servant younger than Elsa herself was. And because Anna was a servant, she didn't need to worry about etiquette, or the art of conversation, or social rules and forms of address, or embarrassing her parents or the kingdom through some faux pas. But still, it really wasn't acceptable to be quite so chatty with the help. Others would not approve if they found out.

"Uh, Anna, please don't tell anyone else about what I just said," Elsa added.

The younger girl shook her head violently. "Never, Highness! I never tell anyone what we talk about."

"In fact, uh, it might be better if you don't mention we talk at all," Elsa said.

"Um…." Anna stammered, looking away.

"Have you, Anna?" Elsa asked, carefully keeping her voice gentle.

"I… I… uh… I guess I might have mentioned that you talked to me once or twice, I suppose," Anna said nervously.

"To whom?"

"Uh, well, I told Hilde that you talked to me sometimes. She told me I must be more quiet, and shouldn't talk to any of the royal family, ever, just to say 'yes Majesty, no Majesty'. And I think I told Mrs Gerdason once, when she asked how I was doing in my work, and I said I enjoyed talking with you."

"I see," Elsa said, unable to keep a smile off her face. "Well, that's fine. But better you don't tell anyone else, or mention it again."

"No, Highness. I'm so sorry, Highness."

"Oh, Anna, I'm not scolding you. I'm not mad, so please don't do that thing with your lip."

"My… my lip?" Anna asked, putting her fingers to it.

"When you get really worried, your lower lip goes all wobbly," Elsa said. "Like this." She proceeded to demonstrate, and was rewarded by seeing Anna smile. She increased the speed and size of her wobbles, and Anna giggled briefly, then quickly fell silent, and cast her eyes down again.

"My apologies, Highness, for laughing at you," she said quietly.

"You're supposed to laugh," Elsa said. "It was a joke."

"But Mr Kaisson said we must never laugh at our betters," Anna said. "Your Highness," she quickly added.

"Well, I give you special permission to laugh with me when we're alone, Anna. Would you like that?"

Anna smiled shyly. "I would, Your Highness. I would like that very much."

"So would I, Anna. I don't get many other girls to laugh with."

"It must be lonely, being a princess," Anna ventured as she finished blackening the grate.

Elsa sighed. "It's very lonely, being me. You get used to it, learn to deal with it. Learn to be the good girl you always have to be."

"I… I don't think I could be so good all the time, Highness."

"Oh, I think you'd be better than me, Anna. Everyone likes you." Her expression grew dour. "They don't like me that much."

"Highness!" Anna gasped. "We all love you!"

"I wish it were true," Elsa said, a faint smile on her lips. "But it's a small castle. I know what people think of me. I know they call me the Ice Princess." She sighed. "In truth, I don't actually mind. It's true. I am cold."

Anna shook her head furiously. "No it isn't! You're warm and caring!"

"Ah, Anna, I only wish I could be as warm as you. But it's more true than you know." She decided it was best to change the subject, and gave a wide yawn. "Sorry. I didn't get much sleep, due to nightmares."

"I am sorry to hear that, Highness," Anna said.

"Oh, it's nothing," Elsa said, giving Anna a reassuring smile. "I have nightmares quite often. I'm sure you do too."

Anna shuddered. "I have them lots, Highness," she said quietly.

"What sort of nightmares do you have?" Elsa asked, her voice gentle.

Anna stopped adding coal and looked around nervously, as if she were afraid someone was watching her. "Sometimes… sometimes I wake up, and I'm not here no more, but back home, and the cold wind is coming through the cracks in the walls and my father is drunk again and shouting he's going to beat me and I just about cry because this, all this, was just a dream, and then… and then I wake up, and I can see the white ceiling of my room in the attic, and I see Hilde in her bed, and I'm warm, and not hungry no more, and I just about cry because I'm afraid this is all just a dream, and one day I'm going to wake up for real and it'll all be over."

"Oh." Elsa hesitated. This was the longest speech she'd ever heard Anna make, and the most intimate. She wasn't quite sure how to respond. She watched as Anna lit a match, and gazed at it briefly, her expression unreadable, before applying it to the neatly-stacked pyramid of kindling. Watching her, the princess wondered what the other girl was thinking—what did the glow of the match mean to her? Was it a reminder of her poverty, of how nearly she had frozen to death?

"It's not a dream, Anna," she eventually said. "I'm real, you're real, this is all real. You shouldn't worry about going back to… that life. As princess, I give you my promise."

"Thank you so ever much, Highness," Anna said, tears sparkling in her eyes. "Sometimes, when I get in trouble, I get scared I might be told to leave."

"Trouble? I thought you were a good girl, Anna."

"I… I try to be, Highness, honest," Anna said, twisting her apron. "But sometimes, if I don't do my job proper, or am slow, Mrs Gerdason or Mr Kaisson scolds me."

"Don't worry about them. I brought you in, so they can't fire you."

"Really?" Anna asked, her eyes wide.

"How could I let you go? Who'd make my fires each morning?" Elsa joked, trying to lighten the mood. She was rewarded by a small nervous smile.

"Highness, might I ask… why did you not have any fires before me… before I came?" Anna asked as the flames grew higher and she added some coal.

"Oh, ah…. Well, um, these blankets are warm and thick, and I suppose the cold doesn't bother me much," Elsa explained.

Anna shivered. "I hate being cold. Sometimes I have nightmares about that as well, Highness. About the entire world being covered in ice and snow, and everything buried under a blanket of white, and everything dying."

Elsa shuddered. "Sounds like my nightmares," she muttered to herself.

"Yours, Highness? What could a princess have nightmares about?" Anna asked, and Elsa made a slight face as she realized she had spoken out loud. She glanced down at her hands: she could feel the cold forming, and quickly thrust them under the covers, out of sight, as images of pitiless frost and death started to flood into her mind. _Stop it_, she warned herself. _Don't feel that. Don't let the fear control you_.

"Things worse than you could ever imagine," she said, in a voice barely above a whisper. Then she took a deep breath, and looked over at the servant girl. "Anna, I think you should perhaps be getting on with the rest of your duties."

"Uh, yes, Your Highness, of course. My apologies."

Anna curtseyed politely, and left. Once she was gone, Elsa took her hands out from under the covers. They were completely white. With a furious gesture, she shook the frost off and sent it spraying towards the hearth, where her ice sizzled and hissed, melted by the warmth of Anna's fire.

.

* * *

**BACKGROUND NOTES:**

Some more character beats, fleshing out how some people think. Coupled with some minor foreshadowing and thematic hints, of course.

The title is based on a famous quote by a 4th century BC Chinese philosopher, Zhuangzi, who dreamed he was a butterfly, then wondered if he was in fact a butterfly who was now dreaming he was a man. "Am I a man dreaming he is a butterfly or a butterfly dreaming he is a man?" Lewis Carroll has something similar, with the Red King, who Alice is told is in fact dreaming about her, and if he should wake, poof, she goes into nothingness.

"Kid" apparently dates back (in the sense of "child") to 1812, or by the 1840s at the latest, though as slang from the 1590s (thanks, etymonline dot com). Of course Hans and Anna are presumably speaking Norwegian (I don't think Arendelle is large enough to have its own language, though it might have a dialect) and I have no idea about Norwegian. However it's not as anachronistic in English as it might sound. Oh, and the term "scientist" (in English of course) dates back to 1833, but "science" is older. And while "robot" is a new word, "automaton" dates back to 1645. And fits better with what I want to say anyway. I'm trying to avoid too many Downton Abbey-style language anachronisms (where the Dowager Countess is known for saying "Pwned, dudes!"), but only doing a quick and dirty job.

Cocoa powder as we know it today was invented by van Houten in 1828. Hot chocolate itself had been a popular drink in Europe among the wealthy (for it was not cheap at first) since the mid-seventeenth century. Milk chocolate, in solid form, was only developed in 1839. So Elsa and Anna were really early adopters. (And it has been drunk by the Mayans for about four millennia.)

"Nordlys," as you can imagine, is the Norwegian for "Northern Lights." I've only seen them once, from a plane flying from LAX to LHR (Heathrow). I'd love to see them from the ground in their full splendour one day.

Further research into home lighting in the Victorian period (buildingconservation dot com has a nice detailed article) suggests that gas, while used, did not really take off until 1859, when the new Houses of Parliament were gas-lit. It was apparently distrusted. So while I will leave a few gas lamps, I have given Elsa an oil one this time. Gas lamps were apparently not so good for smaller rooms either.

It seems that the children of the poor would generally only go to Sunday School, to learn the very basics about how to read and perhaps simple sums. Further education was considered a waste of time, and in fact bad for them, as it would give them ideas above their station and make them unhappy with their lot in life. Flower sellers, match girls, watercress girls, etc. would all become fairly adept at simple sums from necessity, but their knowledge and skills were intensely practical—of the wider world, they would know almost nothing. I hope to address this later on in the story. Anna has spent all her time out in the real world, and knows nothing of book learning, while Elsa has spent all of hers in the library, and knows nothing of the real world. I don't know if English would be studied in Scandinavia in the 19th century, but let's just have Elsa learning it.

The word "fractal," by the way, is a 20th century coinage, from 1975 in fact, so Elsa could not possibly be singing about "frozen fractals all around." The concept of mathematical recursion, however, dates back to the 17th century.

Sometimes I think I like writing these explanatory notes more than the actual story….

The next chapter will probably be about another fortnight, especially as I'm not sure what's going in it yet. I know where the story is going, never fear, and the main beats, but the details get worked out on the fly, so to speak. That's the fun way to write, when the characters themselves can help direct the story.


	7. That Perfect Maid

**7\. That Perfect Maid**

Early the next morning, Anna had, unusually, woken early. The room looked strange, with green walls that seemed to swim in and out of her vision. For a moment she thought she was still dreaming, but then she caught a glimpse of the sky out of the small, curtainless triangular window, and realised that the aurora had come south again. The Northern Lights appeared often in the skies above Arendelle, and Anna found them both beautiful and disturbing. Even when she was a small child, she used to lie awake at night sometimes, peering through the dingy rag that covered the solitary window of their hovel as the great arcs of green fire lit up the sky, like the curtains of Heaven fluttering in a breeze. Sometimes, it seems to the young Anna that the curtains would part, just for an instant, and she could get a glimpse of the perfect world that lay beyond them. She could see figures in them: trees, flowers, spire-tipped roofs, sparkling snow, delicious food, gorgeous dresses, and two young girls dancing among them. But then the aurora would flicker and twist and the visions would be gone. She would lie awake for hours, just staring at the sky, hoping that the images would return, pretending that she was up there with them, safe and happy.

Anna crept out of bed, carefully avoiding the one floorboard that always squeaked, as Hilde was still fast asleep, and climbed up on the rickety wooden chair beneath the window. This let her rest her elbows on the sill and gaze over the rooftops of the castle, up into the night as the softly shimmering curtains of light danced their slow ballet across the inky sky. Looking at them, moving almost as if they were alive, Anna thought back to her grandmother, who had told her of the old legend that the Northern Lights were the souls of the departed. Her grandmother had said that if you whistled they would come closer, but no matter how often and loudly the young Anna had tried, the lights always remained far out of reach, remote spirits dancing in the distant sky, beyond any earthly care.

"Hey, girl. What are you doing up so early?"

Anna turned at the sound of Hilde's voice. "Looking at the sky, at the lights. They're so pretty, don't you think?"

"Yeah, they're bright tonight," Hilde admitted.

"It's so amazing," Anna said. "It's like the sky's awake or something!"

"I wish to heaven that the sun was. When is the damned winter going to end?" Hilde muttered, rubbing her hands together. "Hurry up and light the damned fire. I'm bloody freezing."

"You shouldn't swear like that," Anna gasped as she climbed down and lit the small fireplace in the cold bedroom.

"Swear?"

"You know, when you said… damned," Anna finished in a whisper. "It's not proper."

"Not proper?" Hilde laughed. "Not proper for who?"

"Well, El—I mean Her Highness would never say… that word," Anna said.

"Do I look like a damned princess?" Hilde said, her hands on her hips. "I wish you would stop talking about her all the damned time."

"I don't!" Anna said. "And you still shouldn't swear. It ain't ladylike."

"You do so talk about her," Hilde said, getting into her work clothes. "And it's not as if I can swear in front of the family. Nor in front of old Gerdy or Chef or anyone. So I shall damn well swear in front of you, girl."

"But why swear at all?" Anna asked, getting dressed herself. "Aren't you happy here?"

Hilde paused briefly. "What, happy? Happy bein' a servant? No." She seemed on the verge of saying something else, then gave a quick laugh. "Mind you, bein' a high lady an' getting waited on by the likes of you would make me happy."

"Well, since neither of us is never gonna be high ladies, we oughta be happy with what we got," Anna said. "An' if you'd ever been on the streets, you'd know."

"You don't know what I know," Hilde shot back. "So you just shut your damned mouth and get going!"

"What?"

"Get!" Hilde hissed. "Get!"

Stunned by Hilde's sudden viciousness, Anna scurried out of the room and down the narrow stairs to the kitchen. She stumbled and almost fell, catching herself at the last minute, and took the rest of the stairs at a slower pace, still wondering what had got into her roommate.

* * *

"Good morning, Mamma, Pappa," Elsa said, curtseying to her parents before sitting down to breakfast a week later.

"Good morning, dear," her mother said absent-mindedly, flipping through some correspondence.

Her father lowered his newspaper and gave her a quick nod. "You are late for breakfast yet again, Elsa. Are you sleeping in? Do I need to get Astrid to wake you earlier?"

"No, Pappa," Elsa said. "I am sorry. I will try to keep a better eye on the time."

"Our little girl is growing up, Agdar," the queen said. "She will be a young woman soon. She will no longer be up at the crack of dawn, wanting to play."

The king peered over the top of his paper at his only child. "You're already twelve, aren't you? Getting to be a young woman. What is it, Kaisson?" he added as the butler gave a gentle cough.

"It's about Her Highness lady's maid, Astrid, Your Majesty," the butler said in his soft voice. "I am afraid that she has asked to be allowed to return to her family in Norway. Apparently her father is quite ill, and she feels her place is at his side."

"Oh, dear me," the queen said. "Certainly, I quite agree—poor Astrid should be at her father's side, not ours. Kaisson, give her a month's—no, two month's pay when she leaves."

"You are most generous, Your Majesty," Kaisson said. He gave a gentle cough. "There is also the matter of her replacement, Your Majesty. Mrs Gerdason would like to discuss the matter with you at your convenience."

"Of course. I presume she'll be promoting… whoever is next in line," the queen said, looking over at the butler.

"That is the usual method, yes," he said.

"If Astrid goes, then who do I get?" Elsa asked.

"I'm sure Mrs Gerdason will find you someone suitable, do not worry," the queen said.

"She will be most discerning, Highness," Kaisson added. "You shall have the perfect maid."

Elsa glanced over at the butler, and nodded. "If you don't mind, I want to discuss this with Mrs Gerdason myself. After all, if this new maid is to be mine, and as I am nearly in my teens, I think I should have some say in who it is."

"I am sure Mrs Gerdason would welcome your suggestions, Highness," Kaisson said, his right eyebrow raised a respectfully discreet half inch.

* * *

After her morning lessons were over, Elsa headed down to the service level. Like the rest of her family, she seldom ventured below stairs, as this was the realm of the servants and she felt rather out of place here. Almost unwelcome, in fact, even though the entire castle was nominally her home. It was just that she sometimes felt an undercurrent of resentment from some of the servants at their private space, where they did not need to bow and scrape, being invaded by one of the high-born. In addition, she knew many of them were actually afraid of her. And with good reason, she thought to herself with a sigh as she tugged her gloves on tighter.

So it was with a fairly nervous knock that Elsa entered the housekeeper's room. At the sight of the princess, Gerdason stood quickly and curtseyed, then stood with her head respectfully lowered.

"Ah, Mrs Gerdason, sorry to barge in on you like this," Elsa said, glancing around the small room, wondering where her carefully-rehearsed opening question had flown to. "I was just… that is to say…. I was wondering about my new maid. Astrid will be leaving to help her mother now, right?"

"Yes, Your Highness. I hope you have been happy with her work?"

"She's been perfectly lovely," Elsa told her, taking the seat offered. "I hope… I hope she has been happy serving me as well..."

"I have never heard her complain, Highness," Gerdason said.

Elsa glanced at the lined face of the old housekeeper, and sighed. "No, she wouldn't actually complain, would she. Not about me, my… condition. No matter how scared she was."

"I'm sure she wasn't scared of you, Highness," Gerdason said quickly. "We all love and respect you."

Elsa raised an eyebrow. "You'd be foolish not to be scared of me," she said quietly. "Sometimes I'm scared of me."

"Those were all accidents, Highness. We all know that. We know you would never want to hurt anyone deliberately."

"No, of course I wouldn't," Elsa said. She looked at her gloved hands, suddenly even more nervous than before. How could she be trying to get Anna in a place where she could end up hurting the other girl? She was being selfish. "But I still end up hurting people anyway."

There was a brief silence, during which Elsa fidgeted with her braid briefly, then she stood up. "I… I should go, I think. Sorry to have disturbed you, Mrs Gerdason."

"Might I ask what it was you came to ask me about?"

Elsa hesitated at the door. Was she actually just being selfish by wanting Anna as her maid, even at the risk of hurting her accidentally? Or was she just being a coward, running away and slamming the door, trying to keep everyone at a distance—including herself? Was it fair to Anna to keep her as a lowly, downtrodden scullery maid, when she could be so much more? To put her own fear of herself over the entire future life of Anna? She could do it: she could change both their fates. It was just a matter of control, of keeping her emotions in check.

"I was wondering…" Elsa said, turning back. "Who are you going to make my new lady's maid?"

Gerdason smiled. "Mr Kaisson indicated you were taking an interest, Highness. I was thinking Aslaug, the head housemaid, would be a good choice."

"Aslaug? Oh, right, I know her." The princess fiddled with her braid again. "I was wondering... What if there was someone I wanted, but who wasn't an above-stairs maid?"

Gerdason raised an eyebrow. "It is of course your prerogative, Highness, but that would be a considerable promotion. Is there… is there a girl you were thinking of in particular?"

Elsa hesitated for a moment before replying. Even leaving aside her own issues, was this really a sensible idea? She hadn't even discussed it with her mother, after all. Would her mother object, and make her change her mind? "I was thinking…." Elsa took a deep breath and tried again. "I was thinking of Anna."

"The scullery maid!" Gerdason gasped. "You can't have a—!" The housekeeper stopped immediately, and bowed her head. "Please forgive that outburst. What I meant to say, Your Highness, that a scullery maid would not be, er, quite proper for such a responsible position. Anna is too young, too untrained—she can barely speak correct Norwegian. It… it wouldn't be proper, Highness."

"Should not I be the one to judge whom I wish to have serving me?" Elsa said, a tinge of frost on her voice.

"Of course, Your Highness. But… I could not recommend her for the post."

"And why not? Kaisson told me she's a very good worker and everyone likes her."

"She is, Highness. But with all due respect, the duties of a scullery maid, who never comes into contact with, or should even speak with, a member of the family do not require much training, education, or intelligence."

Elsa's eyes narrowed. "She is too intelligent," the princess shot, her grammar lapsing in her annoyance.

"It is most generous of Your Highness to say so," the housekeeper said. "However, to perform as a lady's maid requires a certain level of… ah… training. Comportment. Decorum. Not, if you don't mind me saying, attributes associated with a, er, beggar child from the streets."

"She could learn them," Elsa pointed out.

"She would have to be taught by one of us then, Highness." Gerdason paused. "Perhaps you should discuss this with Her Majesty. It may be that the queen has certain wishes," she added.

"Very well. I shall do that," Elsa said.

"There is also Anna herself to consider, Highness. She may not want this sudden promotion."

"Of course she would want it," Elsa said. "It's easier work, a better job, we can spend more—" She stopped abruptly. "Of course she would want it. Who wouldn't?"

"With respect, Your Highness, it may not be that simple," Gerdason said.

"That's the advantage of being a princess," Elsa said, finally starting to lose patience. "You can _make_ things simple. I shall talk with my mother, the queen. She will then give you your instructions. Understood?"

"We will obey, of course, Highness. As always."

Elsa nodded. "Thank you. I shall talk with my mother, then."

* * *

"No, Elsa, that's really not a good idea at all!"

"But mother!" the young princess protested. "Why can't I have whomever I want?"

"Mrs Gerdason is right, darling. The work of a lady's maid is very different to the work of a scullery maid, and it will mean the girl, Anna, will be in close proximity to you for much of the day. It's not fair to ask that of some illiterate street orphan."

"She's not illiterate," Elsa said. "She can read!"

"Elsa, my sweet, even if she can read, she knows nothing of what is required when attending a lady of noble birth. How could she dress you, or do your hair, or..."

"She could be taught. I told Mrs Gerdason that."

"It would be unfair to the staff, Elsa, to make someone train her in addition to their own duties," the queen said. "You know why we have to have such a limited number. You know we can't risk word of your... condition spreading. Or risk anyone being… affected by it."

"I know, Mamma," Elsa said in a quiet voice, staring down at her gloved hands. She could feel how cold they were, even through the fine silk. "So… so if Anna was trained to be a lady's maid, if she knew the work, I could have her?"

"Honestly, darling, I don't really understand why you're so set on her. What's wrong with Aslaug?"

"She's twice my age and twice my height," Elsa said. "Everyone in the castle is older than me, except Anna."

"Well, If you really wanted a playmate your age, then I suppose we could invite Lord Skarsgard's daughter, Kari."

Elsa shook her head. "I don't like her much. She's snobby. She shouted at Astrid for nothing, made her cry."

The queen smiled. "You are a kind girl, Elsa, despite what you might think of yourself. The King and I are very proud of our little princess. Yes, perhaps Kari is not the best choice. There's also the fact that having his daughter be the playmate of the princess would give Lord Skarsgard extra status in the Storting, which your father would not welcome."

"Oh? Why not?" Elsa asked. "Doesn't Pappa like Lord Skarsgard?"

"No, no, it's not that, dear," the queen said. "It's just that Lord Skarsgard has some ideas on how Arendelle should conduct its international trade that your father the king does not agree with, because they would place too much influence and power in the hands of the nobility and not the burghers."

"Burghers?"

"The middle classes, Elsa. It is important that the common people share in the wealth of a kingdom, or else the kingdom will not prosper. Why?"

"Because... because no society can surely be flourishing and happy, of which the far greater part of the members are poor and miserable."

The queen smiled. "I am glad you are paying attention to your economics lessons—always important for a ruler. Mr Smith of Scotland is quite right. Anyway, you run along now, darling, as it's time for your mathematics lesson, and I know how you enjoy those."

"What about my maid?" Elsa asked as she stood up.

"My dear, I really do think you should take Aslaug. Anna is simply not properly trained."

"But if she were? If she did know how to act?"

The queen gave a tiny shrug. "If she eventually becomes sophisticated and educated enough to serve as a lady's maid, I'm sure that, in a few years' time, she will make a good and loyal one. Now hurry along, _min elskling_. Miss Mandelbrot is expecting you, and a princess should never abuse her position and keep others waiting."

"Of course, Mamma," Elsa said, giving the queen a quick curtsey. "I understand. Thank you."

The young girl walked down the hallway towards the small study, lost in thought. She had an idea fermenting in her head, one that she was eager to start putting into practice as soon as possible.

* * *

"Anna!"

Relaxing on her bed, the young redhead whirled at the sound of the housekeeper's voice, almost dropping her book.

"Ma'am?"

"I'm sorry to do this on your afternoon off, but Her Highness has summoned you."

"Summoned Anna? Why?" Hilde asked, her eyes narrowing.

"That is not your concern, young woman," Gerdason said sternly. "Now come along, Anna."

With a quick glance towards a suspicious Hilde, Anna followed the matron of the castle down to the main levels. She had not been in the residential levels of the castle in daylight for ages, not since she had attempted to return the book to the princess, and she had been too nervous then to really take in the understated elegance she was surrounded by. While the main structure of the castle dated back to the fifteenth century, and the oldest halls were even older, it had been extensively redecorated inside at the end of the previous century, giving the castle more of the appearance of an elegant palace than the grim medieval fortification it was originally.

Thus lost in admiring the intricately painted patterns along the wainscoting, Anna realized that the housekeeper had stopped outside a door, and was knocking softly.

"Enter," came Elsa's voice.

Anna followed Gerdason into a long gallery filled with paintings. She had not seen this room before, as there was no fireplace in it, so there was no reason for her to enter it in the mornings. The princess was standing near the far end, gazing up at a painting of a young girl in a swing.

"I have brought Anna, Highness," Gerdason said after she and Anna curtseyed.

"Thank you, Mrs Gerdason," Elsa said. "You may go. Anna, come here. Please."

With a nervous glance at the housekeeper, Anna trotted down the long gallery to the princess. She curtseyed again. "Highness? How… how may I serve?"

"Do you like this painting, Anna?"

Anna looked up at it. It showed a young girl in a voluminous pink dress on a swing, illuminated by a shaft of light through the trees.

"She's pretty," Anna said. "Oh look, she's lost her shoe!" she added, pointing to the pink slipper flying through the air in the painting. "That's funny!"

"I know, isn't it?" the princess said with a light giggle. "All the other paintings here, they're all so solemn and stiff and formal. Portraits of famous people, my ancestors, other serious works. And here's a girl having fun on a swing." Elsa turned to look at the younger girl. "Sometimes, even when we're surrounded by pomp and formality, it's nice to just have fun and laugh."

"Do… do you like to laugh, Highness?" Anna ventured.

"I know it's not what people might expect of the Ice Princess," Elsa said. "And I know I don't do it that much." She gave a small sigh. "But yes, I do like to laugh. There… just isn't anyone I can laugh with."

"That's… uh, that's too bad, Highness," Anna said, feeling like she was supposed to say something. But what? What did one say to a princess? Especially when one was little more than a beggar to begin with? They were standing side by side, but Anna was always acutely conscious of the gulf between them. She was quite certain that the princess was equally aware, by the slightly stiff and awkward way the older girl was standing, gloved hands firmly clasped in front of her. "Can't you, er, laugh with your friends, Highness?"

There was a short pause. "I… I don't really have any friends, Anna," Elsa confessed. She twisted her fingers together, and glanced down at her hands. "It's not easy, when you're a princess, spending your time alone in a castle. Do… do you have any?"

"Not any more, Highness," Anna said quietly. "I used to have one, when I was much younger. About five, I think. I don't remember her too well. But I never had much time to play."

"I don't suppose you have much time to play now, either…."

Anna shook her head. "Not really, Highness. I mean, I have some time, I suppose. An hour each day. And every Sunday afternoon off."

"Sunday? Today?" Elsa glanced quickly at the younger girl, an apologetic smile on her face. "I'm sorry for summoning your on your half-holiday, Anna. I hadn't realised."

Anna shook her head rapidly, sending her plaits flying. "No, no, Highness! I'm yours! Whenever you want!"

"Uh, thank you," Elsa said, her eyes wide. "Um… are you always this, er, enthusiastic?"

"Highness?"

"So… full of life."

"I'm… not sure. I'm just me, that's all."

Elsa smiled. "It makes a nice change from all the dour faces around here, that's for sure." She paused, and gazed at the painting some more. Anna stood quietly beside her, not sure if she had had been dismissed or not. Perhaps she should say something, after all.

"Um... who's hiding in the bushes, Highness?" she ventured.

"The man who looks like he's trying to look up the girl's skirt? Her lover. You know, she's actually a very naughty girl. See how she's got her back turned on the cherubim? She's rejecting the sacred for the profane."

"I'm… I'm not sure I follow you, Highness," Anna said.

"It's a painting of a girl who doesn't want to do what she should do, what everyone thinks she should do. She's got her back to the symbols of God and angels, and is throwing off her clothes and opening her legs for her lover, lying there ready for her."

"Wow, I never knew there was so much in a painting," Anna breathed. "It's like there are layers, and each painting tells a story. They're pretty, and they tell stories. What could be better?"

"That's exactly right, Anna," Elsa said. "Exactly right." The princess looked back at the younger girl. "Would you like to look at some more paintings?"

"Sure!" Anna said, nodding. "Uh, I mean of course, Your Highness."

"'Sure' is fine, Anna," Elsa said, giving her a reassuring smile. "You're not afraid of me, are you? Many here are, you know."

Anna shook her head. "I don't think I'm afraid, no, Highness. I guess the others don't see your warmer side."

"Warmer side, yes," Elsa said, giving a short, bitter laugh. "The warmer side of the Ice Princess…."

"I still don't see why they call you that, Highness," Anna admitted. "I don't think it's fair, you know. They talk about you behind your back, and you can't say anything! Sometimes I try and stop them, I tell them you're a good person, but they… they don't listen. They tell me it's best I don't know, but I do know."

Elsa sighed. "Sometimes I envy you, Anna."

Anna blinked. "You? Envy me, Highness? But you're a princess, and I'm just a scullery maid!"

"You're kind, and honest, and humble, and friendly, and loyal," Elsa said. "Everything a true lady should be. Everything I try to be, wish I could be. You deserve so much more than being a scullery maid."

"That's very nice of you to say so, Highness," Anna said. "But I am happy just being here. I get good clothing, warm food, and a soft bed."

"There's so much more to life, though," Elsa said. She looked around the gallery, at all the paintings on the walls. "So much more. Anna, I want to… If you like… I would like to teach you more about my world. Would you like that?"

Anna nodded happily. "Oh, very much so, Your Highness!"

"Good," Elsa said with a smile. "Then, starting next week, we shall turn you into the perfect maid!"

.

* * *

**DR WORDMANGLER'S FAMOUS LECTURE NOTES**

The title is modified from "that perfect girl is gone" from some obscure song I heard recently maybe once or twice.

"Aslaug" is taken from the _Vikings_ series—and indirectly from the Viking sagas I guess. If you don't watch it, I recommend it: Series 2 has just ended. It's not as gory as _Game of Thrones_ either.

The Storting is the supreme legislature of Norway, established in 1814. It means "Great Council," so I have used it as a generic rather than specific name. It's Stor Ting, so not a verb (Do you like Kipling? I don't know—I've never kippled…). "Ting" itself is from "Thing," which is an old term for "assembly" in Old English (and a few other related languages). It survives in modern English in the word "husting" (house thing). I think "thing" is a fun word, and we should have more Things around the world. It would make _The West Wing_ make a lot more sense (Toby quote: "The wrath of the whatever from high atop the thing!"), but I shall have to make do with the Japanese Diet (or the German Diet of Worms) for interesting parliamentary terms.

Burghers are not burgers, but there is a etymological connection—burgers being from hamburgers being from Hamburg, the burg (town) of Ham, then we have burgher, who is an inhabitant of a burg. "Burglar" is a more distant relation, going back to "burg" as in "fortress" (something you try to invade). So no, "hamburgers" do not and never did need to contain ham….

"What improves the circumstances of the greater part can never be regarded as an inconveniency to the whole. No society can surely be flourishing and happy, of which the far greater part of the members are poor and miserable." Is from the (Scottish) Adam Smith's _Wealth of Nations_, published in 1776.

"Miss Mandelbrot" is taken, of course, from the Polish mathematician Benoît B. Mandelbrot who coined the term "fractal" in 1975. And "Lord Skarsgard" is named for Gustaf Skarsgard from the "Vikings" series (which is pretty good). No further reference is intended. I was tempted to name him the Norwegian version of "Marshmallow" just for fun, but it turns out that the Norwegian for "marshmallow" is (drum roll...) "marshmallow." So perhaps that would not work so well…. Of course that made me wonder what on earth "marshmallow" actually meant: turns out it's pretty much what's on the tin: it was made from a plant called "mallow" that grows in (another drum roll…) marshes. And was first used by the ancient Egyptians, mixed with honey, to sooth sore throats. Incidentally, marshmallows as we know them today date to the 19th century, but only, to begin with, on a small scale in France. It's not impossible that Olaf (assuming he knows what a child in 1845 would know) would know of marshmallows, but it's a slight stretch. Not as bad as the bicycle. That took me out.

God do I ever waffle….

Incidentally, I've deliberately made Elsa's speech a little more "adult" than we might expect from a twelve year-old, as she is both a princess, and, judging by Alice in Wonderland (published in 1865—Alice turns 150 in 2015!), children in the 19th century seemed altogether more erudite than children today anyway.

Oh, and "min elskling" is Norwegian for "my darling." Every so often, it's important to remember this is not an Anglophone country. Well, okay, it's not actually important, but I do think it should be remembered that all this English everyone is speaking is in translation, as it were. Not that I know a word of Norwegian beyond what I can look up online for this story—well, that, and that "la den gå" is Norwegian for "let it go"... (If you haven't heard _Let It Go_ in Norwegian, go do so now.)

My comments about the interior decoration of the castle are simply my head canon about how it can look like a medieval stave church on the outside (seriously, if you don't know it already, compare Arendelle Castle to Borgund Stave Church—they're almost identical, though the church is much smaller) and a much more modern palace inside. While I haven't yet done a thorough analysis, I am pretty sure that the spaces inside do not match, in most cases, the shapes we are shown on the outside. I have so many questions about the architecture of that impossible castle….

The painting Elsa and Anna are admiring is _The Swing_ by Jean-Honoré Fragonard, painted in 1767, a version of which is the one featured in the Gallery of Arendelle Castle in _Frozen_ (and also provided inspiration for _Tangled_'s art style).

* * *

**PS**: One recent reviewer asked about the possibility of "Elsanna," taking the time and effort to include lots of detailed comments. I replied privately (I reply to all non-anonymous reviews: if you've taken the time to engage with my work to that extent, I want to thank you and hopefully engage in a more extended discussion) but want to repeat some of my positions here in case anyone else is wondering the same thing.

The two main reasons why this will not become Elsanna are as follows:

1\. They're too young. There won't be any major time skips, at least during the main story (nothing more than until the king and queen die, definitely, which I may actually bring forward). So that largely removes the issue anyway. This will also, never fear, mean that they will not be with other people. Kristoff will remain nothing more than a friend to the eight-year-old Anna. In short, romance of any sort will **not** feature. One reason for keeping them younger is to avoid any issues of romance, in fact. This is about other forms of love.

2\. I believe giving them a romantic relationship goes against everything the original film was trying to say about the nature of true love: that there are other forms of true love than the clichéd "true love's kiss" romance. I feel this is a very important point. I have been disappointed in the onrush of lesbian Elsanna fics, because of the way it looks at the most important lesson of the movie - that family love, sibling love, is also true love - and promptly says "nah, true love only means romance and kissing. (So Elsa and Anna **have** to have a romantic relationship even if they're sisters.)" I do feel it is important in fanfic to respect the heart or soul of the canon (which is my main objection to Shrinking Susan in the _Monsters vs. Aliens_ TV show - if you've read my profile you'll have seen my rant about that). And as far as I can tell, the heart of "Frozen" is that these two main characters demonstrate that true love is not always romance (and that romance is not always true love, I guess). That there are other forms of true love just as powerful, just as real. So I am saddened by the apparent insistence by a very large segment of the fandom that Elsa and Anna *must* have romantic love, even if that means incest.

That said, there are some very good stories here about Elsanna - I just don't want to write one. I want to write a story that celebrates platonic love, the power of friendship. As CS Lewis wrote: "To the Ancients, Friendship seemed the happiest and most fully human of all loves; the crown of life and the school of virtue. The modern world, in comparison, ignores it." And modern fanfic certainly does….

Sorry for the length of the author's notes this time. I just felt that the Elsanna issue was important enough to respond to publicly as well.

* * *

[**Posted** 11 May 2014]

[**Edited** 11 May - Thanks, LiariaZwei, for catching my "Elsa" error. And if anyone finds anna-thing elsa that needs fixing, I'll correct it asap.]

[**Edited** 16 May - Thanks to my trusty editor (?) Loridhhp for noting that Elsa is not a "process."]

[**Edited** 23 July - Changed the king's name to Agdar, reflecting the canon. Also made a few minor adjustments to words to help it flow better.]

[**Edited** 30 March 2015: Fixed a minor typo]

[**Edited** 5 May 2015: Changed the mentions of Elsa's age to fit in with the day given by Jennifer Lee]


	8. Castles in the Air

[Last time in _There Sleeps a Living Flower_: The departure of the queen's maid gave Elsa the idea of replacing her own maid with Anna. This idea was shot down in flames by Mrs Gerdason and the queen, so Elsa has decided to train Anna in the ways of being a lady anyway, with a view to replacing her current maid, Aslaug.]

**8\. Castles in the Air**

Early one morning a few days later, Anna was quietly cleaning the grate in the princess's room when she found a small pale yellow envelope stuck between the bars. She was about to place it on the princess's side table when she saw her name written on it. Curious, she slipped it into her pocket, and as soon as she was back out in the corridor, she stood underneath one of the gas lamps and quickly opened it.

Inside was a short note, written in the same elegant, flowing hand that graced the inside of the book Elsa had given her. _Dear Anna, Please come to my room after lunch on Sunday. Do not tell anyone. E._

Anna read the note several times, her heart beating fast. What did this mean? Had the princess been sincere about teaching her more about her world? Why? To help make her a better maid? But why did she need to know about art and literature and all the other things she presumed Elsa knew in order to scrub pots better? It didn't make sense. But even if she didn't quite understand why, she knew she would be there at the appointed hour. For one thing, it was an order from her princess. But it was also a request from the girl who had saved her life, taking her away from the poverty and violence which had been her world, and showing her that life didn't have to be so cruel and heartless.

* * *

Anna spent the rest of the week in nervous anticipation. She did not have a chance to speak with the princess before then, as Elsa was always asleep when she made up her fire in the mornings. On Sunday, lunchtime could not come fast enough, and the young redhead ate her meal of bread and beef stew with such speed that Kristoff, coming into the kitchen to deliver a load of potatoes and onions, told her that she reminded him of his reindeer, Sven, attacking a plate of carrots. Anna stuck out her tongue at him, and he laughed.

As soon as she could after lunch, she hurried up to her room, washed her face and hands as best she could, and changed her black maid's frock for a new one. Smoothing out the wrinkles, she headed back down the steps just as Hilde was coming up.

"Where are you off to in such a rush?" the older girl asked.

"I… uh, I forgot something in the kitchen," Anna said, thinking quickly. "My… uh, my socks. I left them in the scullery."

"Anything left down there gets tossed into the servants' dinner, you know," Hilde told her.

"Oh my God—Oh, you're having me on," Anna said, catching sight of the corner of Hilde's mouth twitching.

The older girl shrugged. "Yeah, well, last night's dinner sure tasted like someone added a dirty pair of socks."

Anna giggled. "It wasn't that bad, really."

"No. No, it really was," Hilde said. "If only Mrs Pedersen would let me make it, not Inger. I'm sure I could do better than her, even if I haven't been a kitchen maid as long."

"I'm sure you could," Anna said, nodding. "I liked that krumkake you made. It was nice, and looked really beautiful."

"Uh, thanks," Hilde said. "You only got one because the family didn't eat all of them, mind. Don't think I'll be making them for you as a regular treat."

"Of course not!" Anna exclaimed. The very idea was ludicrous. The royal family ate better food than the servants, that was natural. Anna was merely grateful that her food was warm and filling and tasty, despite what Hilde might claim about dirty socks as ingredients.

With a start, she suddenly realized she was wasting time. Saying a quick farewell to Hilde, she hurried down the narrow back stairs, and eased open the green baize door on the bedroom level. While she could make some sort of excuse for being found on the main level without permission, being in the family's private wing was a different matter. But there was no one around, and not a sound. She slipped out quickly, and was soon standing outside the door to Elsa's room, her heart pounding like a drum in her ears. She took a deep breath, and then knocked quietly.

There was no response. Anna was about to knock again when the door suddenly opened, revealing the princess standing there.

"Hi-Highness," Anna said, startled. She curtseyed quickly.

"Come in, Anna," Elsa said, in a soft and slightly nervous voice.

"Thank… thank you, Your Highness," Anna said, following the princess into her room. She had never seen it in daylight before. It was quite chilly inside, despite the low fire crackling merrily in the corner. The walls and carpet were light purple, accented with white decorations and white-painted woodwork, with the deep purple-red curtains pulled back, letting sunlight flood into the room. The room was quite spartan inside otherwise, with just a large wooden bed, a few straight-backed chairs, and a large desk. However one wall was entirely covered in bookshelves, piled high with hundreds of volumes. Anna could also see several sheets of paper on the desk, covered with what looked like intricate patterns and diagrams.

"Oh, never mind those," Elsa said, quickly shuffling them into a neat stack and slipping them into a drawer. "Just some designs I was playing with."

"Designs, Highness?"

"For a new castle, when I'm queen." Elsa went a little pink. "A magical fantasy castle, with spires and towers and all that, like in Corona, where my cousin lives."

"Corona, Highness?" Anna asked, standing awkwardly beside the desk and wondering what she was supposed to be doing.

"It's on the Baltic Sea, between Prussia and the Holy Roman Empire. A long way away. Never mind about that. Would you like some tea?" Elsa asked, gesturing to a small table by the window, on which a tea tray was resting.

Anna blinked. "Tea? Uh, well, I mean, yes, I would be honoured, Your Highness," Anna stuttered, trying to work out why a princess would be offering a scullery maid tea.

"Good. Now, carefully watch what I do, and try and remember it."

"Yes, Highness." Anna said, looking on as Elsa poured herself a cup of tea with milk and sugar and placed it on the table in a series of smooth, elegant moves.

"Now you try," Elsa said.

"Me, Highness?"

Elsa gave her a reassuring smile. "I want to see how you do it. You were watching me?"

Anna nodded. "Yes, Highness."

"Good. Can you try and pour tea like that?"

"Uh, of course. Er, this… uh… like this?"

"A little more—wait, too fast! Oh, never mind. There's a cloth there to wipe the spill."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Highness!" Anna gasped, near tears. "I've… I've never poured tea like this before."

"That's all right, Anna, I know you haven't. Don't worry, just try again. We've got all afternoon…."

* * *

After the afternoon's lesson had ended and Anna had left, Elsa had rung for Aslaug, and got the tall maid to remove the tea settings and the rest of the by now very cold tea. Then, alone again, she took out her architectural sketches, and looked at them. They seemed too small, too hesitant. Something big, bold, dynamic was called for. Something that would speak to the world, a symbol to the people of her will, her strength, and the richness of the land. A symbol of all that was good in Arendelle, something for the masses to literally look up to, and draw inspiration from.

Elsa removed her gloves and started to sketch a new design, but she kept finding her mind drifting back to the tea lesson. After a rather awkward start, which had come _this_ close to staining her carpet with tea, Anna had quickly understood the basic concepts, and Elsa had found herself starting to talk more and more freely—she had started off with short, simple instructions and comments, related to the matter at hand, but as Anna became more visibly at ease in her presence, Elsa found herself wanting to talk about all sorts of other matters—anything to get the younger girl to relax and open up more. She seemed so free and happy when she was open, chattering on about one thing or the other. It was so refreshing to have someone talk like that to her. Once or twice Anna had even appeared to completely forget that she was just a poor maid and Elsa a princess, laughing and even joking, but each time she quickly clammed up, apologizing, and it took a while for Elsa to coax her out of her shell again.

Elsa wished there was a way she could get Anna to not constantly see her as the princess, aloof, untouchable, but she knew there really wasn't. It wasn't just a matter of telling the other girl: there was a massively weighty and rigid social stratification, old, powerful, and ingrained from birth, holding them both back. Both girls were acutely aware of its existence, both girls suffered under its constraints. And even the princess lacked the power to break its chains.

Sighing, the young princess took a fresh sheet of paper, and started ruling and measuring lines and angles, seeking perfection in the precise, controlled world of geometry, creating an ideal world through her will and imagination.

* * *

That evening, Anna lay in bed, trying to remember the exact sequence of steps required to brew and pour the perfect cup of tea. Elsa had told her she had mastered it very quickly, but Anna knew she had a long way to go before she could emulate the effortless grace the princess showed in every aspect of her life. After pouring the tea, they had practiced how to prepare it, and Anna's head had reeled with the elaborate rituals and steps that were required for something as simple as making a cuppa. Everything from the tablecloth to the proper way to hold a teacup seemed to be precisely regulated by a dozen different rules. Elsa had told her about adding the milk before the hot tea to prevent the delicate china glaze from cracking, that she must never stick her pinkie finger out, clink the spoon against the cup, or break a host of other rules, but the main focus had been on the setting, with napkins, spoons, cups and saucers, slop pots, and so on, and what side handles should face and spoons be laid. To say nothing of the vital difference between weak tea and strong tea, and even the use of the saucer for drinking your tea if it was on the hot side.

All this was interspersed with a running commentary from the princess about a great many subjects. Anna found that far more interesting than the tea, as Elsa would talk about all the various things she would do in a day, and all the preparations and work that went into organizing the princess's life. Anna found it quite exhausting just to listen to, although the princess did have a maid to help her, at least—Elsa had actually talked about her quite a lot, describing the sort of work she did, how important a good lady's maid was, and how close a lady and her maid could grow. Anna realized she must have made some sort of face or done something odd on hearing that, as the princess had hastened to explain, with a slightly pink face, that she was not, in fact, that close to her current lady's maid, but that she hoped very much to one day have a lady's maid with whom she could be friends. The princess had given Anna the strangest look just then, one which had puzzled the younger girl. But only for a moment, as Elsa had then quickly announced that the first lesson was over, and Anna thought nothing more of it.

* * *

"What's up with you these days?" Hilde asked one Sunday afternoon a few weeks later. "I never see you around. Even on your half-holiday you go off somewhere." Her eyes narrowed, and she grinned. "You don't have a sweetheart, do you? Hans maybe?"

"I'm far too young!" Anna shot. "And it would never be Hans!"

"What's wrong with Hans? He's so handsome!"

"He's way too much older than me," Anna replied. "And he's mean! He tried to trick me with ghost stories that aren't true!"

"Ghost stories? What do you mean?"

"He said that sometimes, even in summer, the rooms here get really cold, sometimes. He says that's because there's a ghost here. But I asked Mrs Gerdason, and she said that wasn't true."

Hilde snorted. Then she smirked at the younger girl. "And what if ol' Mrs G. was just saying that to keep you quiet? What if there really is a ghost?"

Anna's eyes grew round. "Wait—is there?"

Hilde laughed. "No!" Then she gave a sneaky grin. "But then again, I could be just saying that…."

"Oh, come on! That's not fair!" Anna shot, pouting.

"No, it's not fair, but then life ain't fair, is it?" Hilde said. "Like you hiding away all the time, leaving me alone and bored."

"Oh, I'm sorry about that," Anna said, her face falling. "But I really… I mean, I have to… I can't…."

"Oh, never mind," Hilde said with a wave of her hand. "You're not that special. There's loads of other servants around to talk to. Like Hans…."

Anna pouted. "You and Hans talk all you like! Anyway, I have to get going."

"Hm? Get going where?"

"Uh, just somewhere," Anna said. "It's my day off. I don't have to answer to you."

Hilde looked at her suspiciously. "I see. Very well. Have it your way, then."

She watched the young redhead leave the room, and then counted to ten. Then she carefully slipped through the door, and made her way down the service stairs, discreetly following Anna. To her surprise, Anna slipped out onto the royal family's private level, where their bedrooms were. There being nowhere to hide, Hilde remained behind the green baize door, watching through a crack as Anna walked quickly but calmly, as if she belonged there, right up to Princess Elsa's door, and vanished inside.

Hilde shut the door, and leaned against the wall, her brow furrowed. What in the world was Anna doing in the princess's room? Was Elsa in there as well? Surely not. Was Anna stealing things? It was true that she had somehow acquired a few more things since she had arrived, in addition to that mysterious book: just little items, like a lady's fine silk handkerchief, stained slightly grey. Nothing that would be missed, but….

Easing the door open, Hilde tiptoed along the deserted corridor, her heart in her mouth. What could she even say to Anna once she caught her red-handed? Did she really want the younger girl to be thrown back onto the streets? No, that was too much—but she had to be stopped, before one of the other servants caught her. Or even worse, one of the royal family. What in the name of Heaven was the silly girl thinking?

Hilde crept up quietly to the princess's bedroom door, and was about to ease it open when she heard a noise that stopped her. Surely it wasn't…? It couldn't be. Then it was repeated, louder, and Hilde's eyes opened wide. It _was_—it was actual laughter. And it wasn't Anna's, either—that was definitely the princess's voice. Anna and Elsa? The lowly scullery maid and the princess, laughing together? All this while, all the time they had spent together as room-mates, and now Anna was… lying, running off and acting freely with the Ice Princess? How dare she! There were rules! This did not happen! Hilde had no idea what twisted game Elsa was playing at, as she had long given up trying to make sense of the way the princess thought, but she suddenly found herself thinking very black thoughts indeed about her fellow maid.

Resisting the very strong temptation to open the door anyway, Hilde tiptoed away, her face a frozen mask of anger. She headed straight down to the housekeeper's room, then hesitated, her hand on the knob. If this was at the princess's instigation, then Mrs Gerdason was almost certainly aware of what Elsa was doing—there was very little in the castle that escaped the old woman's notice. Tattling to the housekeeper would do no good, and would probably end up getting herself in trouble.

Fuming gently, Hilde wandered out to the Servants' Hall, and poured herself a mug of tea from the pot that was on the stove before sitting at the table, as far away from any of the other servants as she could.

"Hey, sweetie," came a voice behind her.

Hilde didn't turn around. "What is it, Hans?" she muttered.

"That's no way to greet a footman, now is it? Show some respect for your betters."

"Respect for me betters, ha!" Hilde snorted, slipping back to her childhood accent. "There ain't no respect for betters bein' shown 'ere, that's for sure!"

"What are you on about, girl?" Hans demanded.

"Nuttin'," Hilde muttered. "Only 'er 'Ighness looks to 'ave found a new pet. Someone who needs a lesson in showin' respect for 'er betters. 'Oo needs to learn 'er place."

Hans's eyes narrowed. "A new pet? Who?"

Hilde glanced at him, pursuing her lips. "Who'd ya think?" she asked after a short pause. "The Little Match Girl 'erself. The one the princess rescued. Our little lost kitten."

"Really?" Hans said, his expression shifting smoothly into one of the most sincere concern. He sat down beside her, and gazed into her eyes, giving her a smile that only touched his mouth. "Why don't you tell me what you know? Don't worry, you know you can trust me. So what exactly have the Little Match Girl and the Ice Princess been up to that they shouldn't?"

.

* * *

**NOTES:**

A few people have suggested that a "previously in..." might help readers remember what the hell happened in the last chapter without having to backtrack. Do please feel free to let me know if it's a good or bad idea. I think in a fandom as active as this, where I'm sure most if not all of my readers are following several stories, it might be.

The phrase "to build castles in the air" actually dates all the way back to the 16th century, when people were still building real castles (on the ground). An earlier variant goes back to the 13th century.

Krumkake is a traditional Norwegian waffle biscuit (cookie) made using a special two-sided iron griddle. The krumkaker (that's the plural form) are rolled into cones using a conical rolling pin, and are a traditional Christmas sweet. Now I'm hungry….

The references to Corona are of course because of the cameo appearances in the film. The location is one of the ones the well-researched Finding Corona site has selected, and I think if they're related they should be reasonably close, physically, as well. Well, sort of. At least communication by ship should be reasonably simple.

I have of course done extensive-ish research on tea etiquette, hoping I didn't screw up too badly. The custom of pouring the milk before the tea which some people apparently do is based, as far as I can tell, on the idea that I refer. Modern china does not need to be treated quite so carefully, however. And sticking your pinkie out marks you as gauche and a wanna-be. On that note, never refer to a fancy afternoon tea spread as "High Tea." That's actually used for lower-class dinners (on a high table, or possibly as it was later), whereas "Low Tea" is tea served on a low table. The classic English Afternoon Tea was started by the Duchess of Bedford just a few years too late to have Elsa know about it, so I haven't bothered with all that. And yes, people did used to use saucers to drink tea out of….

If people have forgotten, the silk handkerchief I refer to is the one Elsa gave Anna to wipe her face with that first morning, and Anna washed and returned to Elsa. I have decided that Elsa made her a present of it.

...

Sorry for the delay. Things are busy in Real Life (which is apparently a thing, no matter how I try to pretend it isn't), and this chapter was getting rather long anyway so I have chopped it into two. On the plus side, that means there's only one major scene in Chapter 9 left to write. The most important one, mind...

[Posted 1 June 2014]

[1 June: Ypots fixed co/ the ever-vigilant Loridhp! Thanks!]


	9. The First Flower of Spring

**9\. The First Flower of Spring**

[**In the last chapter**: Anna has started being taught the ways of a lady, part of Elsa's plan to train her to be her lady's maid, changing her fate as a way to try and gain some power, some control over her isolated life. However, Hilde has found out where Anna is disappearing to each Sunday, and has confided Anna's secret to Hans.]

* * *

Anna had gone to bed before Hilde returned, but found herself being shaken awake almost immediately after she had closed her eyes, or so it seemed. She moaned, slowly opening her lids to the dim, candlelit room.

"Up you get, lazybones," Hilde was saying, poking her in the ribs. "Time to rise and shine!"

"Oh, already?" Anna yawned and stretched, then sighed. "I wish that sometimes I could have the morning off and not the afternoon, just so I could lie in bed and sleep, doing nothing for hours. Like a princess."

Hilde snorted. "Yeah, well, Princess Anna, get up and get the fire going. It's cold in here. And my bedpan needs emptying. Get a move on."

Anna made a quick face, then got dressed and started on the first of her long list of chores for the day. Hilde made no move to help her, but just leaned back on her wooden chair and watched Anna as she worked, before heading out to start her own tasks.

After her morning chores, Anna headed into the kitchen for a late breakfast. The room suddenly hushed as she pushed open the door and took her seat at the long communal table.

"Good morning," she said cheerfully.

There was no immediate response, and Anna looked around, surprised. "Good morning," she repeated, a bit more loudly.

"Morning," came a few muttered voices, then everyone went back to their work, ignoring her again.

Puzzled, Anna started eating her meal. She could hear people whispering softly together, but they stopped whenever she looked at them. But Anna didn't have time to wonder what was going on, as Karin, the laundry maid she met when she had her first bath, ordered her to help with the washing the moment she finished eating.

"That's—but I have to do the dishes," Anna protested.

"That can wait. The sheets need to be cleaned. There… uh, there was a leak in the roof and the princess's beddings need to be completely replaced; they're soaking wet."

"A leak? But this is the royal castle!"

Karin shrugged. "I guess it's just an old castle."

"I suppose. I just didn't know it rained last night. Or has the snow started melting?"

"Stop giving me lip and start removing the wet sheets. And I'm going with you to make sure you don't nick anything."

"I would never!" Anna protested hotly, her face flushing.

Karin shrugged again. "Yeah, well I heard different."

"Well you heard wrong!" Anna retorted as she followed Karin up the back stairs. "Stop saying that!"

"I heard you got some nice things in your room, like a lady's silk handkerchief, a fancy book, and a nice pen."

Anna's eyes narrowed. "They're mine!"

"What's a scullery maid want with such fine things? You're forgetting your place. Right, we're at the princess's room now. Hey, wait, don't just walk straight into her room like that!" she added quickly as Anna opened the door and headed inside.

"But… she's not here. It's time for her mathematics lesson," Anna said.

"Why do you know her lessons schedule?" Karin asked, her eyes narrowed. "And even if it was, what if the princess wasn't at her lessons?"

"She'd never miss her lessons!" Anna responded. "Especially mathematics. She loves it!"

Karin looked at Anna, her lips pursed. "You sure do know a lot about 'Er 'Ighness. A little too much. You fancy y'self better than us, do ya?"

Anna shook her head violently, sending her pigtails flying. "No! No! Certainly not! I… I just… I just want to be a good maid. Maybe one day become even a lady's maid."

"A lady's maid?" Karin scoffed. "Some hopes! A scullery maid could never become a lady's maid! An' a beggar girl like you least of all! Now shut up and strip the bed!"

"I'm not a beggar!" Anna muttered as she removed the wet counterpane and sheets in silence, peeling them back one by one and dumping them on the floor. Then she found something strange.

"Uh, Karin, What is this? Is this… ice?"

The laundry maid stopped, startled. "Give it here," she said, and Anna handed the sheet over. "No, don't be silly. It's not ice," Karin stated, quickly bundling the sheet up with the others.

"You didn't even check!" Anna retorted, then staggered back as an open-handed blow from the older girl caught her across the cheek.

"None of your lip, y'here? Shut y' mouth and get back to work!"

Anna gasped in pain and shock. While nowhere near as hard as her father's blows, this was still the first time she'd been properly hit since coming to the castle, and it had been so long since anyone had struck her that her defences were down. Doing her best not to let the older girl see her cry, she busied herself with tidying up the mattress and straightening the rug.

"Right, girl. Take these down to the laundry!" Karin snapped.

She tossed the bundle of sheets back at Anna, who just managed to catch them.

"What about that tent thing over the bed?" Anna asked, glancing up at the canopy projecting out over the bed in the tall, elegant half-tester style of the late 17th century.

"What about it?"

"Won't that be wet too? I mean, if the roof leaked, right?"

"Forget the canopy! You talk too much, you know. Get on with your work and stop asking questions. No good ever comes of asking questions here. Don't ever try to know what you shouldn't, and don't ever try to be what you shouldn't. Not if you know what's good for you."

"Yes, Karin," Anna said with a sigh, following the other maid out of the room. She cast a quick glance back at the stripped bed. Despite what Karin had said, that had definitely been ice in the sheets. How on Earth had it got there? It didn't make sense. Anna shrugged, and sighed. Karin was right—it wasn't her place to ask questions, to try and know more than she should.

* * *

It was a long day, and just when she finished one task, another quickly replaced it, and Anna found that she barely had a moment to herself. Even her meals had to be eaten as quickly as she could get them down. She didn't make it to bed until after midnight, as Hans had assigned her the task of scraping out the mud from the boots of all the castle residents. When she had protested, he had scowled at her and told her to do as she was told. Unwilling to make an enemy of the footman, she had meekly complied, though her arms were already feeling like jelly after hours of scrubbing, as Hilde had got her to polish all the kitchen utensils in preparation for spring.

Finally she was able to head to bed, and fell onto her sheets with a long sigh.

"Wow, I'm tired," she said, removing her shoes. "What about you? How was your day? What time did you finish? Say, what're you reading?" she added, looking over at Hilde, who was reading a book in bed. "Is it any good? Could I borrow it when you're done?"

"Anna!" Hilde snapped, glaring at the younger girl. "I'm tired, and I'm trying to read. Please have the goodness not to natter away like an idiot."

"Uh, sorry," Anna said slowly. "Was it a long day for you, too?"

"I said I don't want to talk. Now be quiet."

"Okay, bye," Anna said quietly, turning over and lying down. Why was Hilde acting so annoyed with her? Was it something she had done? If so, what? And why was everyone acting so weird lately? The silence, the looks—what was going on?

"Hilde, is the kitchen waste ready?" Anna asked later that week, coming into the kitchen.

The young girl peeling potatoes didn't bother looking up. She just kicked at the bucket of vegetable waste at her feet, pushing it out towards Anna. "There y'go, Yer 'Iighness. A banquet for ya."

"Huh? Why do you keep calling me 'Your Highness'?"

"Oh, it's 'Your Highness' now, is it? 'Aven't you learned to speak right proper now?"

"What do you mean? I'm just trying not to sound like a begg—like a poor person."

"Yer tryin' to sound fancy, like 'Er 'Ighness, you is," Hilde retorted. "Puttin' on airs an' graces, you are these days. Gettin' ideas above your station. Which is the lowest, and don't you forget it!"

"I am not getting ideas above my station!" Anna shot back hotly. "Why are you saying that?"

"Because you—" Hilde stopped, and shrugged. "No reason. Mrs Pedersen says you can take those out to the stables now."

"Yes, Hilde." Anna picked the bucket up and headed out along the stone-flagged passageway that connected the lowest level rooms of the castle. Then she gave a start as a tall figure suddenly loomed over her.

"Hans! You startled me!"

"I assure you, I didn't mean to, Anna," he said, smiling at her. "Off to give the slops to the horses again, I see?" he added, nodding at her bucket.

"Yes. It's part of my work." Anna said, wondering why a footman, and Hans especially, was taking an interest in what she was doing. He never had before.

"Tell me, Anna. Do you enjoy working here at the castle?"

"Uh, of course." Anna shifted the bucket in her hands a little nervously, hoping this wouldn't take long.

"So you like being a scullery maid? You're happy doing… that?" he asked, wrinkling his nose and looking askance at the bucket, and the stains on Anna's apron.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, it's just that we want everyone here to be happy," he told her. "I wouldn't want to think anyone here wasn't happy with their station, was trying to be grander than they are. Wanting to be consorting with their betters or anything." He looked down at Anna and gave her a wide smile. "Because we value harmony and order in this castle. Everyone knows their place, everyone stays in their place. Mrs Gerdason, or even Mr Kaisson, would be very upset to learn there was someone here who didn't… appreciate that."

Anna swallowed. "What… what do you mean?"

Hans shrugged, giving her a casual smile. "Oh, you know. Someone who thought, for example, that she might become a court favourite of the princess. Perhaps someone who has read too many fairy tales. Someone living in a fantasy world." He leaned down, his handsome face close to hers. "Because this isn't a fantasy, child. There are no happy endings here." Then he stood up and grinned disarmingly. "Well, I must be off. His Majesty needs me."

Hans swaggered off without a backwards glance, leaving Anna trembling so hard she had to hold onto the bucket with both hands. Did he know? He must know! How could he know? Elsa—the princess—had told her to keep it quiet, not tell anyone. She hadn't even mentioned it to Hilde. How could he know? Or was he just saying this to tease her, get under her skin like he always did? No, not this time. He knew. Somehow, he knew. Anna gasped. That was why everyone was treating her like a pariah! That was why Hilde was so cold and distant. They knew she was spending time with the princess, and they thought… they must be thinking she was trying to be something she wasn't, thought she was better than they were. But she wasn't! _I'm not!_ Anna told herself, her hands shaking. _I'm just trying to do better, because my princess wants me to!_

Anna took a deep breath to steady her nerves. Wrapping her thin shawl tightly around her shoulders, she picked up the bucket of peelings and headed out into the cold outside world. Winter was gradually easing its icy grip on the land, and the snow was finally starting to thaw. Some days the rear courtyard would be slushy and wet, and other days, after a cold night, it would be ice. Today was quite slushy, and Anna could feel it seeping into her boots. It wasn't a pleasant feeling, and she knew she would need to make sure they were quite dry before her work started the next day.

"'Ullo, little 'un," Kristoff said as she came into the stables. "Anything for a hard-working lad in there?"

"Not unless you like potato peelings."

"What, not even any carrots? Cook usually smuggles one or two out for Sven."

Anna managed a quick smile at Kristoff's crestfallen expression. "You mean these?" she asked, fishing out two large orange carrots from beneath the peelings.

"Aye, that's more like it! Sven'll love those!" The young blond boy took the carrots, then grinned at Anna. "Hey, you wanna feed him?"

"Me? I… I've never fed a reindeer before!"

"Well, neither had I the first time I fed one," Kristoff pointed out with what Anna had to admit was unassailable logic. "Come along, he won't bite. Well, he won't bite you, at least. He might bite the carrot."

Anna laughed. "Say, why do they have reindeer here anyway? Don't horses usually pull carriages?"

"Yeah, horses are good in summer, but in winter there's nothing like a reindeer. They can go places horses can't, and can cope with the snow a lot better. Not that they get used much now, anyway. Nor do the horses. Not since… uh, not since about five, six years ago, I'm guessing."

"Why, what happened then?"

Kristoff shrugged. "Search me. The indoor staff might be able to tell ya. I'm just a delivery boy and stable lad. Not my place to know, and I don't ask questions. Anyway, Sven's not too happy to be cooped up here all the time, so I try and spend as much time with him as I can, and take him out for some exercise now and again."

"You ride him?"

Kristoff glanced at her, looking surprised. "Well of course I do. He can't ride himself."

"Wow, that must be so amazing. I wish I could ride a reindeer. I'd go like the wind, over the snow, out of town, into the hills, through the trees, riding on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and—"

"Woah there, girl! Don't you ever draw breath?"

"Sorry! I guess I got a bit carried away. Wow, he's big close up!" Anna exclaimed, looking up at the reindeer in his stall. "Are… are those horns dangerous?"

"Antlers. And nah," Kristoff said, patting Sven's neck. "At least not much," he added as the reindeer moved his head and the tines of his antlers swished dangerously close to Kristoff's scalp.

Anna jumped. "Yikes! You sure he's safe?"

"Absolutely. Here, give him this carrot, and he'll be your friend for life."

Kristoff handed Anna back one of the carrots, and the small redhead girl held it out nervously. Sven stretched out his neck and sniffed at the orange offering, then snorted and chomped down on the entire carrot. Anna yelped and jerked her hand back half a second before the reindeer's mouth closed around it.

"He nearly bit me!" she gasped.

"Not him, never," Kristoff told her. "He's just got slobbery lips. Here, boy!" Kristoff bit off the tip of the other carrot and then held the rest of it out. Sven closed his mouth around it, his lips brushing over the boy's hand. "See? No problems." Kristoff stuck the rest of the carrot in his mouth, and chewed noisily.

"He's still a bit scary," Anna said. "But he's kind of funny, too."

Sven bent his head and moved towards Anna.

"Go ahead. Touch him. Pat him," Kristoff urged.

Anna reached up a nervous hand, and gently patted the reindeer on his head. He made a noise that sounded almost like snickering, and licked her hand with a surprisingly long tongue. Anna smiled. "He's nice. I think he likes me. Can I come out and see him some other time?"

Kristoff shrugged. "Sure. Whenever. I'm off on deliveries a lot, but he knows you now, so yeah, any time. I know he'd want to see you."

"Yeah. I'd like that too." Anna paused, and patted Sven again. "Is Hans always like that?" she asked suddenly.

"Huh? Like what?"

"Making stories up, trying to get people scared, saying weird things, like he knows everything."

"Oh that. Yeah. He does that all the time. Likes to pretend he's got his ear to the ground or something, like he knows everything that's going on. He'll try and get under your skin. Don't let him. I don't much like him, myself. He's… he seems to hate everything and everyone. Me especially, for some reason. I reckon reindeers are better than people, anyway. You can trust reindeers. You can't trust people."

"I... I hope you can trust me," Anna said.

Kristoff looked down at her, and shrugged. "Well, Sven likes you, so I guess that's good enough for me. And I guess that means you can trust me, too."

Anna looked at him. "That would be nice. I'd like to trust someone."

"Whaddaya mean? Is something up?"

Anna shook her head. "Nothing. Never mind. Can I... stay here for a bit?"

"Uh, I guess. What about your lunch? Isn't that now?"

"I'll get it later," Anna said, her lip trembling. "I… I don't want to go back to the Servants' Hall. Not just yet…."

* * *

That Saturday night, Anna sat on her bed, curled up with her face buried in her arms, weeping quietly. Almost none of the servants were talking to her, and Hilde had been acting cold and distant for nearly a week. But she wouldn't explain why, and every time Anna tried to ask her, she just told her to be quiet, and to remember her place.

Mrs Gerdason and Mr Kaisson were pretty much the same, but since she didn't interact with them much, and they were never exactly chummy to begin with, it wasn't much of a change. The footmen largely ignored her, as usual, considering scullery maids beneath their dignity. Those, Anna decided, she could handle. It was the younger maids that were the worst. Always looking at her strangely, and breaking off from conversations when she neared. Her workload also seemed to have, somehow, increased—as if it had not been hard enough before. These days she was lucky to be in bed by midnight, and if truth be told, even if Hilde had been wanting to talk in bed before they fell asleep, Anna knew she was too tired to keep up a conversation.

The only bright spots were when she could slip out to the stables and spent some time with Kristoff and Sven, or with Sven alone if Kristoff wasn't there. They never judged her, never acted coldly around her, never made her feel like she was no longer wanted. It was peaceful out there in the stables, a haven where she could be herself. And Kristoff never minded her talking. Unlike in the Servants' Hall, where it had been days since anyone spoke to her, other than to give her orders. Days of almost total silence, of enduring the cold looks of her peers.

But why? Was it what Hans had said, about trying to become the princess's favourite? But she wasn't! She was just trying to be a better maid, so she wouldn't be so vulnerable to being thrown out again. Why was that a cause for hatred? Sure, she liked the princess, who was kind and warm, though sometimes a little remote and distracted, but Anna was under no illusions about ever being a favourite, like in the fairy tales. The rich tolerated the poor, at best. They were not equal, could never be equal. But if this was what would happen when people found out, if they thought she was trying to be something special, then was it really worth it? As much as Anna enjoyed spending time with Elsa, and learning about her world, living in a castle of isolation was just not worth it.

She couldn't just not turn up—an order was an order, after all. But how could she broach this to the princess? And what would her reaction be?

* * *

"I saw a crocus this morning, Highness," Anna ventured nervously, as she entered the princess's bedroom on Sunday. "Just a little one, poking up through the snow. I thought you might, er, like it for your room," she added, holding out a small yellow flower, slightly wilted.

Elsa smiled. "Thank you, Anna. Yes, spring is coming. Do you like spring?"

Anna nodded. "Oh yes, Highness. I like summer even better, mind."

"Summer? Why do you like summer? The long days, the green hills, the warm sun?"

"Well, to be honest, Highness, mainly because I never had many warm clothes. In summer, it didn't matter than I didn't have shoes to wear."

"Ah." There was a brief pause, during which Elsa fiddled with her gloves.

"What season do you like?" Anna asked quickly, trying to cover up the awkward gap. She'd realized early on that the princess was not always the best conversationalist. Luckily, Elsa never seemed to mind if Anna just talked or asked about random things.

"Oh, I always liked winter," Elsa said, giving Anna a slight smile. "I love snow. I love the patterns it makes, the shapes it forms. The way you can make so many things with it. The way the world is transformed beneath the blanket of snow, changing houses, trees, and hills, turning them into completely different things. And the way the Northern Lights reflect off the white snow, turning the winter world into a rainbow."

"It sounds beautiful, Highness. I… I wish I could live in your winter."

"Perhaps you can," Elsa said softly. "One day."

The princess walked to the window, and looked out. "It snowed last night. It's so… beautiful." She sighed. "Winter will be over soon. In a few weeks all the snow will be gone."

"Yes, Highness." Anna stood beside the princess, and a little behind her, looking up at the older, taller girl, who was gazing into the distance.

"Winter is truly magical," the princess said. "I wish I could let you see that." She glanced down at the other girl. "Let's go outside today, into the garden."

"Outside, Highness?"

Elsa nodded. "So I can show you winter's majesty. And how much fun it can be." She smiled slyly at Anna. "Do you want to help me build a snowman?"

"Highness? A—a snowman?" Anna gasped, wondering why on earth the princess was suggesting playing games together. If anyone saw them...

"It doesn't have to be a snowman," Elsa said, suddenly shy. "It could be anything. Just have some fun in the snow! Let me show you how!"

"I... I really should be getting on, Highness," Anna stammered. "I mean… I don't mean that I don't want to…. But…."

"Oh, come on! It's going to be warm soon, and all the snow will melt," Elsa said. "I want to show you how wonderful snow can be, how wonderful winter can be if you have a fr… if you have someone to share it with."

Anna shook her head, her heart beating. "I… I really shouldn't, Highness. I'm getting ideas above my station, I am. In fact I…."

"What is it?" Elsa asked, looking puzzled as she absent-mindedly twirled the flower in her hands.

"I'm sorry! I'm not trying to be anything fancy, I'm really not! Honest! I'm forgettin' my position! I should just be a scullery maid—that's what I am! That's what I should be!"

"Anna, don't you want to be better? Don't you want to be my lady's maid one day?"

"I do! Of course I do, Highness! I just… I just don't…."

"But Anna…."

"I can't! Highness, I'm sorry! I can't keep coming here! I'm not supposed to be front… frat… uh, fraternizing!"

"Fraternizing? Anna, make sense!"

"I'm sorry, Highness. I… I'm just a scullery maid! I'm not supposed to be… talking with… with a princess."

Elsa's eyes went cold. "Who told you that?"

"Uh, well, I mean, it's not like anyone told me, Highness, but people are… they're…. I tried to conceal it, not let them know… but now they know."

"And?" Elsa prompted after Anna fell silent.

"And now… they think I'm trying to be… something I'm not s'posed to be. Uh, Your Highness. That's not right. If someone was to try that… puttin' on airs and graces… they… the others… wouldn't like her much."

"They wouldn't like her?" Elsa repeated, trying to understand what Anna was on about. The redheaded girl shook her head, and Elsa could see she was biting her lip hard enough to make it appear white. "They wouldn't like… you?" Elsa finished in a whisper. "Because you've been—because they've found out you've been spending time with me?"

Anna nodded, and Elsa felt a cold needle stab at her heart. Her plans were crumbling before her eyes. She felt powerless. How could she change her fate if she couldn't even change the fate of a lowly maid?

"I... I understand. You… you may go, Anna. You don't have to come next Sunday."

"Please, Highness, I'm so sorry. I would never want to…."

"Anna, please! I'm sorry—you have to get out now!" Elsa hissed, clenching her gloved hands tightly. She could already feel the ice forming, trying to break free, trying to destroy everything.

Anna swallowed hard, her eyes wet with tears, then curtseyed and quickly left. The princess just stood there, watching the door close as the temperature in her room began dropping swiftly. Frost starting forming on the crocus, seeping through Elsa's gloves, the deadly white crystals swiftly spreading over the small flower and enveloping it in a jagged coat of ice.

With a sudden furious gesture, Elsa hurled the frozen flower at the wall where it shattered, the petals tinkling on the smooth wooden floor. She ripped off her frozen gloves, tossing them aside, and buried her face in her hands, breathing heavily, willing herself to suppress her anger and disappointment. After a few moments she felt calm enough to consider her next move. She slowly stood erect, lowering her hands, with her eyes closed, thinking. She knew Anna would never have told anyone—so someone had to have seen what she was up to, and spread rumours. Servants loved to gossip, and with Anna being the only new one in years, they were bound to gossip about her. But she would not give up. She would not accept that. She would simply have to reconsider her plans, be more circumspect and understanding of what she had to work with.

Elsa went to her desk and sat down, looking at the castle designs she had created. Opening a drawer, she took out a pencil and started sketching. She always thought best when designing geometrical patterns, creating ornate structures that expressed a clear underlying order. The young princess loved the directness, the honesty, of mathematics: it was a world where rules applied with a precision even greater than science, a precision far, far greater than the world outside her bedroom. It was comforting to retreat to that soothing certainty, those regular, predictable relationships.

The princess worked on her designs for a few minutes, but something wasn't right. She wasn't gaining the mental clarity she sought. Elsa looked at her castle plan again, and scowled. It was a silly fantasy, it was never going to work. Why had she ever imagined it would? A Corona-style castle? No. It was too ornate, too extreme. And too derivative. What was the point of trying to build something that didn't fit in Arendelle, a land of cold mountains and winter snow? Of forcing something that didn't belong? No, any new castle would have to be something unique, something completely different. She would use what she had, accept it for what it was. She scrunched the drawing up, the paper frosting over as she did, then tossed it in the bin.

Taking her ruler and pencil, the princess started again. Her new design would be something less ostentatious, something more fitting to the climate of her kingdom. Pure, elegant, refined, and with the mathematical perfection of a snow crystal. Something that could grow organically, and bloom like the first flower of spring amidst the snow.

.

* * *

**NOTES:**

Sorry for the delay. I had this chapter largely written when the previous one was posted, then decided to make some sweeping changes and reorder most parts, then re-reorder other parts, and then realized that certain key scenes weren't working properly (or less properly, at any rate). But, for what it's worth, here it is….

A half-tester bed is the style of the beds in Frozen – like a four-poster but with only two posts, and an abbreviated canopy (tester) over the top.

Remember, Anna's only eight in this story. Her spending time with Kristoff is not the beginnings of a a romantic relationship. (Nor is it with Sven, for that matter….)

See you all in another fortnight with Chapter 10, if all goes well….

[ETA: Thanks to my faithful editor/idiocy-checker Loridhhp for catching a couple of snafus...]

[Edited: 23 July: Changed some order of words in Karin's admonishment to make it flow more naturally. Also fixed minor typo in the Notes section.]

[Edited Again: 17 Jan: How did this escape me? Anna heads outside twice in two paragraphs? Oops. Fixed that goof...]


	10. Beware the Frozen Hearts

**Beware the Frozen Hearts**

[**Last Time on ****_There Sleeps a Living Flower_**: Hilde found out Anna has been spending Sunday afternoons with the princess, and told Hans. Hans has spread rumours about Anna trying to ingratiate herself with the princess, and the other servants, the maids especially, are ostracizing her. The only one who doesn't seem to care is Kristoff, so Anna spends a lot of time with him and Sven in the stables to escape the whispers and sideways looks. But that is not enough: Anna knows that she cannot keep visiting the princess: it is not her place to associate with the royal family. So, reluctantly, she has asked Elsa to stop the lessons. However, Elsa is not happy at having her plans foiled…]

* * *

That night, Anna was sitting in bed thinking, her book propped up on her knees, unread. There was no doubt that rumours had been spread about what she and the princess were doing: Hans had made that quite clear. But who had started the rumours? Who had been the first to find out? That, at least, would not have been Hans: she spent little enough time around the footman. It had to have been someone who would know when she was not—oh, of course, Anna realized, her lips curling in disgust. _Hilde_. Hilde, who shared her room, and knew she spent Sunday afternoons elsewhere. Hilde, who had asked her pointedly about what she did just the other week. Hilde, who had been calling her "princess" and "highness" out of, it was now clear, pure spite. It was all Hilde….

She heard the other girl coming along the passageway, and quickly blew out her candle and rolled over, burying herself under the coarse woollen blankets. She was in no mood to confront her roommate, and felt near tears. For the first time, she wondered if she had made the right choice in working in the castle. Whatever else had been wrong with her old life, at least she had never been ostracised, never been betrayed by those she thought were her friends. Should she just leave? She dismissed the thought the moment it crossed her mind. No, no, she told herself. She couldn't go back to that. Whatever happened here, she could not bear being out on the streets again.

Shaking with sadness and anger, Anna decided that if the other maids weren't going to talk to her, she sure wasn't going to talk to them. And Hilde least of all. She would just bear the hatred, conceal her own opinions, not allow herself to feel anything. Put a wall of ice around her heart….

* * *

"What is it, Elsa?" the queen asked at breakfast the next morning.

"Nothing," Elsa said, poking at her fish absent-mindedly.

"It is not nothing, darling," her mother said. "You seem even more distracted than usual."

"I was… thinking, Mamma. That's all." Elsa glanced briefly at the butler, standing solemnly at the side of the room. "Kaisson?"

"Highness?"

"When you first started out in service, what rank were you?"

Kaisson's left eyebrow gave a brief flicker of surprise. "Uh, I was, er, a boot boy, Highness."

"Elsa, why in the world are you asking Kaisson about that? Don't embarrass the poor man!" the king said, looking up from his paper.

"I assure you, Your Majesty," the butler said smoothly, "I am not ashamed of what I was. I am merely grateful to Your Majesties for allowing me to opportunity to rise, like the finest cream, to the top of my profession."

"I should note, Elsa," the queen said pointedly, "that Kaisson was not promoted directly from boot boy to butler. He rose up through the ranks like anyone should."

"I always knew my place, Majesty," he said somewhat stiffly.

"Of course you did," the queen told him. "Elsa, stop worrying about things that ought not to concern you. There is an order to our world, and it is our duty to preserve that order for the sake of all."

"For the sake of all?" Elsa asked, her voice dripping with scepticism. "I wonder if those at the bottom would agree…."

"Yes, they would. You may think you're doing someone a favour by promoting them quickly, but you're not."

"But if she—if this person knows how to do the work? Shouldn't that be all that matters?"

"I'm afraid not, my dear," the queen said. "There are other issues at stake. It will create resentment among… this person's peers. They will resent this person, make her life miserable. This is what happens when you try to be better than what you are. Isn't that so, Kaisson?"

"Precisely, Majesty," the butler purred. "I could not, ah, recommend it."

"You see? We each have our roles to play. Your father is the king, I am his wife and queen, you are our heir…."

"Unless you and Pappa have a son," Elsa added with a pout.

"That is in the hands of God," the queen said primly. "And should that happen, you would still be a princess of Arendelle."

"But never queen," Elsa said, her lips thin.

"That is the order of things, Elsa," the queen said firmly. "What happens, happens. None of us can change our fates. And we'll have no more talk of idle dreams. Now finish up your breakfast. Your _lefse_ is getting cold."

"Look, I see there's been a nasty battle in the United States," the king said, looking at his morning paper. "No, wait. Not the States; something called the Republic of Texas. At some place called Ala… Alamo. Seems like nearly two hundred people died."

"Oh, how nasty," the queen said, turning her attention away from Elsa, who ate the rest of her meal in silence, glad of the temporary freedom from judgement. She had not the slightest intention of following her mother's orders, but this time, she would be more circumspect. She would not let them know; she would keep it concealed. After all, that was the lesson her parents had taught her. And now she would show them just how well….

* * *

"Elsa, darling, could you come into my chambers for a moment?" the queen asked after the meal was over.

"Yes, mother." Elsa dutifully followed her mother into the queen's bedchamber, smoothing her gloves nervously as she entered the room.

"Sit down, my dear," the queen said, gesturing to the bench seat under the window.

Elsa did so. "Is… is this about Anna? My ideas for my maid?" she asked.

Her mother shook her head. "No, I believe we have already covered that matter, and do not need to speak of it again."

"Then what is it?"

The queen paused, and studied her elegantly manicured fingernails briefly. "Elsa, my child, I was wondering if there was anything… that… you might not have told me."

Elsa's heart skipped a beat, but she kept her face calm. "What sort of things, mother?"

"About your bed, the other day…."

"Oh. That." Elsa cast her eyes down. "I had a slight… accident. I'm sorry."

"What sort of accident?" her mother asked carefully.

"Nothing much," Elsa said. "I was just thinking about something and… it happened. I couldn't stop it."

The queen pursed her lips. "I see. It appears that your power is growing stronger as you become a young woman. I thought this would happen."

"You knew this would happen?" Elsa asked, staring at her mother.

"No, no…. That is, I was afraid it would. Because you are changing—your body is starting to change. That is to say, uh… develop…. You might, er, have… noticed it already."

Elsa went pink, and remained silent.

"Yes, well, we won't discuss that just yet," the queen said, looking rather uncomfortable. "But, er, your power, this _ismakt_, is changing with you, growing stronger as you become a woman. It's becoming more dangerous than ever."

"I try to control it, Mamma," Elsa said. "I really do. It… it scares me, sometimes. You keep telling me if I make one wrong move, everyone will know. But I try to control it. I do."

"I know you do, Elsa," the queen said. "Which is why this little slip is so surprising. It's not the only one you've had this year, either. There was the little matter with Astrid, for example."

"Oh. You heard about that. I'm… sorry, mother," Elsa said, looking down at the patterns woven into the silk carpet. As a young child she had loved to lie on the floor of her mother's room and trace the intricate curves of the traditional rosemaling designs, until one day she accidentally damaged it when she decided to build a snowman indoors. That section was now discreetly covered with another rug, but Elsa had never been allowed to play in her mother's room again.

The young princess looked down at the carpet, then at her gloved hands, and sighed. "I used to like my power," she said slowly. "When I can make pretty patterns, make the snow dance, I suppose I still do. It's fun, and it doesn't hurt anyone. I can control it."

"I'm not talking about making it do what you want," the queen told her. "I'm talking about not letting it get out when it shouldn't."

"When it shouldn't? You mean all the time," Elsa muttered, not looking at her mother.

"Elsa, look at me," the queen ordered, gazing directly at her child's pale face. "Have you been having problems keeping your emotions in check again?"

Elsa shook her head, trying not to meet her mother's penetrating gaze. "I… I don't think so. No. Maybe…. I'm not sure."

"Remember what you were told, Elsa. Fear is the enemy. If people discover you are a—that you have this power, they will fear you. They will hunt you. They may try to kill you. You must control it, conceal it. I know it can be hard to control, which is why you must not let your emotions run away with you."

"I control them," Elsa told her. When would her mother start to accept that she could? It was very frustrating for the young princess to always be accused of recklessness, of not thinking. She always thought. She always planned. She was never reckless or impulsive. Or almost never….

"I know you do. It's just that ever since you rescued that poor beggar girl, you've been acting strangely. You've saved her life, but that doesn't give you a special connection. It's commendable to want to help her, to improve her sorry lot in life. But there are limits. You've done all anyone could. Don't try and change her fate."

"I thought we weren't going to talk about that," Elsa said quietly, glancing quickly at her mother.

"We aren't. We are talking about you. About your emotions." The queen smiled warmly back at her daughter. "Elsa, your powers are connected with your emotions. Just remember what your father always says. Don't let the bad emotions, the fear in—don't feel it."

Elsa nodded. "Don't let them in," she whispered. "Don't feel them…." She took a deep breath, drawing in the warm air, feeling it chill deep inside her lungs, then slowly let it out in a quiet sigh. "Don't feel..."

The queen smiled. "That's my girl. Do you feel better now?"

Elsa looked up, forcing her lips into a relaxed smile, and gazed at her mother from cold ice-blue eyes. "Yes, Mamma. Thank you. Don't worry—I'll be the good girl you want me to be…."

* * *

Anna had seldom seen the princess since she had asked to be let out of her lessons, and even when she lit the morning fires, Elsa would usually be asleep. Once or twice the young princess had woken, and tried to start a conversation, but Anna would be terrified of having too much to do with her betters, and always do her best to cut the interactions short. She was afraid of any rumours, no matter how minor, getting back. No, it was best not to take any chances at all. She would be the good girl she had to be….

"Hey!" Hilde said, collaring Anna in a basement passageway. "What's with you the last few days?"

"Nothing," Anna said. "I have work to do. Kindly do not talk to me."

She pushed past the older girl, her face set in a blank mask, leaving Hilde standing alone.

"Hey, stop!" Hilde called. "Anna! Wait!"

Anna found her arm grabbed by the older girl. "Let me go! Let me go!" she cried.

"No! Stop avoiding me!"

"What do you want?" Anna asked sullenly.

"Look, girl, just what's got into you lately?" Hilde called after her. "You've been sullen and angry for days! Weeks!"

"You don't know?" she spat, her face furious. "You stand there and dare tell me you don't know?"

Hilde shrugged. "So tell me."

"You told them! You told everyone!"

"Told everyone what?"

Anna took a deep breath. "What I was doing on Sundays. You must have followed me! And you told everyone, and now they all hate me, so I hate you! I don't want to talk to you ever again!"

"Oh. That. Yeah, well, I was curious. But I didn't tell everyone, only Hans."

"Hans? So why'd you tell him?"

"He's… I… never mind why I told him," Hilde said.

"Well, he told everyone, then! Everyone's been going on about me and the princess! It wasn't my idea! She ordered me! You think I could say no? Well?"

Taken aback by the vehemence in Anna's voice, Hilde took a step back, her face pink. Then she recovered. "You could at least have told me!" she countered. "Then I wouldn't have had to be so suspicious! What were you two doing in there, anyway?"

"None of your beeswax!" Anna said. "Elsa told me not to tell anyone!"

"It's Elsa now is it?" Hilde asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I mean the princess!"

Anna pushed past Hilde, hurrying away before the older girl saw her tears.

"Look, I didn't know Hans was going to tell everyone, all right?" Hilde called after her. "I only did it because I thought you were trying to be sneaky, to get in good with the princess, so you could lord it over the rest of us."

"I would never!" Anna shot back. "I know my place! Everyone thinks I don't, but I do! I don't need anything better!"

"Anything better?" Hilde asked, raising her eyebrows. "Anything better than being a scullery maid?"

"Well, compared to what it was like outside, selling matches on the streets, in the cold, no shoes, little food, no! That's all the past! I don't want it! I'm never going back—the past is in the past!" Anna cried in defiance. She took a deep breath, and tried to compose herself, to remain as icily calm as she imagined the princess would when faced with rudeness. "So I would appreciate it, Miss Hilde, if you did not spread false rumours about me," she added, imitating the way that Elsa would hold herself when giving orders.

Hilde stared at her, then laughed as Anna turned away, slamming the door to the scullery. Then she headed along to the kitchens, her own chores to complete.

"Hilde? Can I see you in my room?"

"Uh, of course, Mrs Gerdason," the young maid replied nervously, looking around and seeing the housekeeper standing in the passageway. She swallowed hard, and followed the housekeeper into her private office, where she took the seat offered.

"You're Anna's room-mate, I believe," Gerdason said.

Hilde nodded. "Are… are you giving me my own room?"

Gerdason laughed. "My, you are getting above yourself. Certainly not. No, I wanted to ask you if you knew any reason why our new scullery maid has been so... unlike herself these days."

"I… I don't follow you," Hilde said, carefully examining the grain on the housekeeper's desk.

"She was always so bright and bubbly," Gerdason said. "Polite, humble, but happy and cheerful at her work, and talkative with the other servants. But now… now she's, well, she's still polite, but she's cold, distant, withdrawn."

"What's that got to do with me?" Hilde asked.

"You're her room-mate. You presumably know her best. Has she… mentioned any problems? I know she doesn't have any family, so… are there any problems with the other servants?"

"Per… perhaps," she admitted.

"Which would be?"

Hilde tried to avoid the housekeeper's gimlet eyes, but failed. "Some people think… think that she's trying to, uh, put on airs and graces. Be what she isn't."

"Go on…."

"The thing is… Anna is… well, she's spending time with the princess, trying to get above herself. Be something she isn't. Ma'am," Hilde added, examining her fingers carefully rather than look at the strict face of the housekeeper.

"I am aware that Her Highness has taken an interest in Anna," Gerdason said. "What Her Highness chooses to do with her servants is entirely her business."

"Yes, but—"

"There is no 'but'. You are in no position to question Princess Elsa's wishes. If anyone is getting above their position, it is you."

"But…. It's not fair! She's the newest, the youngest! She should know her place!"

Gerdason's face softened. "Hilde, do you honestly think Anna has the power to get the princess to do anything she doesn't want to? Isn't it obvious that Her Highness would never allow this if she didn't want it in the first place?"

Hilde shrugged. "Maybe. Perhaps. I suppose."

Gerdason sat back, a slight smile on her face. "I sense another 'but' coming on…. What is it?"

"Well, even if she didn't ask for the princess to take to her, she's certainly been lording it up," Hilde muttered. "Telling people they're not pouring the tea properly—at the servants' breakfast, no less."

The housekeeper snorted. "Don't be silly. You may not have realized it, but I have been observing Anna, as well as you and the other maids, like Karin. It's my job to keep an eye on my maids. And I can tell you that Anna hasn't done a thing any one of you hasn't. Do you happen to remember what you were like the first few months you were here, young Hilde? I seem to recall some distinct putting on of airs and graces when you suddenly found yourself working in the royal castle."

"That was… that was different," Hilde said under her breath.

"No, I don't think it was," Gerdason told her. "And you know it wasn't. So quash these rumours. I will not have my maids ostracising each other. Remember, I can still promote—or demote—any of you. Is that understood?"

Hilde blanched. "Yes, Mrs Gerdason."

"Good. You may leave."

Hilde stood and headed out, wondering if they had taken things too far. Perhaps she had been a bit jealous. Perhaps it was time to let it go….

* * *

That evening, Anna was lying in bed reading when she heard Hilde coming along the corridor. She quickly put her book down, snuffed out the candle and rolled over, facing the wall with the blanket pulled over her head. She expected that Hilde would quietly ignore her as she prepared for bed, as she had for the past several days, but this time was different.

"Anna, I know you're not really asleep," Hilde said. "I want to talk to you."

"Well, I don't want to talk to you," Anna retorted, not coming out from the covers.

"Then just listen, please. Look, I didn't mean to… I didn't want everyone to turn on you. I just wanted to know what you were so secretive about each Sunday."

Anna poked her head out and glared at the other girl. "So why did you have to tell everyone? I know why—you thought I was trying to be something I'm not. You figured I was trying to suck up to the princess. Well I wasn't! She asked me! It was her idea! So don't blame me for your jealousy that she likes me better!"

Hilde's eyes narrowed. "She does not like you. I don't know why she's adopted you as her little pet, but it's not because she likes you. She is incapable of liking anyone."

Anna shook her head. "You're so wrong. You're so wrong and you don't even know it. Why do you hate her so much?"

"I don't hate her," Hilde said quietly.

"Liar," Anna retorted. "So why'd you keep saying all those nasty things about her then?"

"To protect you!" Hilde shot back. "You think you're the first pet she's had?"

"I'm not a pet!" Anna cried. "I'm her fr—" She broke off quickly, her face reddening.

"What, her friend?" Hilde gave a bitter laugh. "Don't delude yourself!"

"No, not her friend, of course not," Anna said quickly. "I didn't say that. Of course not! I'm, uh, I'm… a… fresh face, is what I was going to say. Honest!" She quickly buried her head beneath the blanket again before Hilde could see her burning cheeks and the tears of humiliation.

Hilde snorted. "Yeah, right." There was a short silence, then Anna heard Hilde sigh. "Look, Anna, I'm sorry about all the rumours, what people are saying. I'll stop them from saying you're trying to be what you ain't. But you gotta listen to me—the Ice Princess isn't what she seems; don't trust her."

Anna carefully wiped her eyes under the blanket, then looked at Hilde again. "Why do you say that? Tell me!"

"I'm trying to keep you safe, you silly girl," Hilde said.

"Safe? What do you mean? What has she done to you?"

Hilde went pale. "Nothing. Nothing at all."

Anna looked at the older girl suspiciously. "Really?"

"Go to sleep, Anna," Hilde said. "I'll talk to the other maids in the morning. Tell them I was wrong," she added after a short pause.

"Please do," Anna said. "Because I'm not trying to be something I'm not!"

"But in return… I don't care what the princess makes you do. She's a princess, she's not like us. She can do what she likes. But don't let her deceive you. Don't ever think you can trust her. She's dangerous, and if you're not careful, one day she'll hurt you. Beware the frozen heart…."

"Fine," Anna shot back, rolling her eyes at the hyperbole. "Now let me get to sleep."

The young scullery maid buried herself under her blankets again, but nevertheless found herself wondering why Hilde was so adamant that Elsa was dangerous and untrustworthy and cold. What had Hilde done to anger the princess? Or… had Elsa done something to hurt Hilde?

* * *

On Sunday, after the chapel service and after she had served the servants' lunch, Anna walked into the Servants' Hall, ignoring the whispered comments among the maids, and took her seat for her own meal. She ate in silence, doing her best to pretend she was entirely alone. As far as she was concerned, she was.

"Hello, Anna. Haven't seen you here for a while," came Hans's voice. "Not going anywhere this afternoon?"

Anna shrugged without looking at him, and just kept on eating. She had no energy to try and deal with what he, or anyone else, might say.

"Oh dear, that is a pity," he said gently. "I thought you enjoyed your Sunday afternoons off. Playing with your little friend…."

"She is not my friend!" Anna spat, then stopped, her face red, as everyone looked at her.

"Oh? Who is not your friend?" Hans asked, his lips smiling as his eyes remained cold and fixed on her.

"Nobody," Anna said sullenly. "Nobody's my friend. Leave me alone."

"That's no way to talk to a footman," Hilde told her. "It's not your place to tell him not to talk to you!"

"Forgive me, Hans," Anna muttered sullenly, not looking up.

"Don't mention it, little one," Hans said gallantly, and patted her on the head.

Anna flinched, shuddering at his touch. She quickly finished her meal and took her empty bowl back to the scullery, where she started washing it, along with the rest of the dishes from the servants' lunch. Her face remained impassive, but a single tear escaped from her eye and dripped down into the water. Once she was finally done with the dishes, she stood for a while, wondering what to do with the rest of her half-holiday. Should she go to the stables? Spend time with Kristoff, who never seemed to care about rumours or about what anyone thought of him? Even when he shared carrots with Sven by letting the reindeer have first bite, which had disgusted Anna the first time, but also made her laugh. But today she didn't feel like laughing. No, she decided. She wasn't feeling sociable at all. She just wanted to find a place where no one would come, where she didn't have to let anyone in, or let them see her.

Sighing, Anna looked around the small, familiar scullery. This was her domain, at least: few others ever ventured into the dark, smelly, room, its stone-flagged floor always wet with drainwater. Boards were placed to walk on, though they tended to rot through fast, and more than once Anna had gone right through a mouldy plank and ended up with a shoefull of scummy water at best, or a facefull if she actually lost her balance.

But it was quiet, and private, a little chamber of isolation, and after so long in it, the smell didn't bother her any more. So she just found a dark corner, drew up a battered old stool, and sat down. She wanted to think, to try and decide what to do. And, more than anything, she wanted somewhere she could cry in peace. It wasn't her fault; she had never asked for the princess to save her in the first place. And perhaps, Anna wondered, she would now be happier if she hadn't. Perhaps she would now be in Heaven, with her grandmother. Her grandmother would be holding her close, keeping her warm and safe, protecting her from a world that didn't care. Because it really didn't care. For a time, she had dared to dream that it did, but that wasn't for her—it wasn't her place. Her place was here, in the cold, dark depths….

"Hey, Anna."

The redheaded girl turned and saw the blond stable-boy standing in the doorway. "Oh. Hello, Kristoff," she said, giving him a shy smile, her mood already improving. "What are you doing indoors?"

"Uh, it's your half-holiday, right?"

Anna shrugged. "I suppose."

"Well, why not come out to the stables? I know Sven would like to see you."

"Maybe next time," Anna told him in a dull voice..

"Oh, you really should. He wants to see you."

"Sorry, Kristoff. I'm… I'm not really in the mood today," Anna said.

"But… uh, er…. You left… I mean, Mr Kaisson wanted me to order you to, uh, um, take some carrots to Sven."

"Wait, what?" Anna moaned. "Why can't you?"

"I'm sorry, but orders is orders," Kristoff said, looking very embarrassed.

Anna sighed. What did her afternoon off matter anyway? What was she going to do with it now? Read her book for the fiftieth time? Spend hours moping on her bed, staring at the sky through the window? At least if she was hard at work, she wouldn't have the time or energy to worry about why the other maids were so cold. True, there had been some improvement, especially with Hilde, but Karin and her clique were as bad as ever.

She followed Kristoff out to the stables, barely even registering how on edge he seemed. He opened the door to the long, low building, tucked against one of the outer curtain walls of the castle, and glanced around.

"It's safe," he said. "Right, down the end, where Sven is. Hurry!"

"Safe? Hurry?" Anna gasped as Kristoff gave her a light shove on her back, sending her stumbling down past the stalls. "What on earth is going on with him? Everyone's gone crazy. This whole place is full of crazy people."

"I hope you don't think I'm crazy, Anna," came a soft voice.

Anna turned and saw another maid, wearing a wide-brimmed hat several sizes too large, hiding her face. "Uh, hello," she said. "Are… are you new here? How do you know my name? What's yours? Have we met?"

"Elsa," the other maid said, looking up at her with ice-blue eyes and removing her hat to reveal long silver-blonde hair in a neat bun. She smiled. "And yes, we have."

.

* * *

**NOTES:**

Sorry for the massive delay. This was a hard chapter to wrap my head around, as it deals with carefully ramping up and exploring various emotions in a series of vignettes rather than one or two plot-driven scenes. I swapped sections around so many times, trying to work out the best order, and ended up combing several disjointed bits to try and make them a bit more, uh, jointed…. Hopefully it's not too much of a mess. The next chapter will be happier, don't worry. I wasn't originally going to get into such detail with Anna's trials and tribulations, but then it seems she has to earn her happy ending. Not that this is the end of her troubles, not by a long shot. But the next ones will come from a quite unexpected direction….

The title being plural is not a typo. There's more than one frozen heart in this story….

The scullery description is based on this from Wikipedia: "Since sculleries were used for washing and great quantities of water had to be carried inside, they were made with solid floors of brick, stone, terracotta tiles, or concrete. Although a drain, known as a soil pipe, would carry the dirty water outside of the house, the floors were likely to stay wet. The scullery maid would stand on slatted wood mats near the sinks. The floor itself was often dug 6 inches or so (150mm) below the main house floor in case of leaks or flooding." I have also been helped and inspired by period illustrations and paintings.

Lefse is a traditional soft, Norwegian flatbread. Apparently often eaten at breakfast. The more I research stuff for this story the more I want to visit—the movie itself doesn't really inspire me to battle the hordes of Frozen fans who are descending on the fjords, but oddly enough the background stuff I'm learning does.

I just added the mention of the Alamo as a way to reinforce the period (and to distract Elsa's parents from bothering with her). The Battle of the Alamo was from February 23 – March 6, 1836, so that gives us a fairly definite time period for the story. At the time, too, it was in the short-lived Republic of Texas. For what it's worth, I have decided that Frozen is set in 1845, the year The Snow Queen was published (and this date is basically canon), so that means Elsa (who turned 21 in 1845) was born in 1824 and Anna in 1827. This makes Elsa a little younger than Queen Victoria.(I've also come up with death dates, but these don't need mentioning as they won't feature in this story.) [**EDIT**: Taking the birthdates specified by Lee as canon means that Elsa was actually born in 1823, in December. I'm not happy with this, as noted later, but am using it for this story as it's not a major issue.]

**PS**: Thanks as ever to my reliable editor, Lori, for catching a couple of slip-ups. Just shows how much word-mangling went into this chapter as I shuffled things around and changed phrases and tried to get it make some kind of sense...

**PPS**: If anyone's reading this and wondering why I haven't updated, well, there is a slight delay before the next **chapter**, sorry. I had it all ready to post, and was reading through it one more time, when I realised it wasn't working: I had got too caught up in the details and missed the larger picture. Anna's emotional journey wasn't making much sense, and the emotional payoff wasn't properly earned. So I am going to rewrite large chunks of it, changing the emotional beats and hopefully making it seem more warranted. "It" being what you'll find out in a few days...

[Edited 30 March 2015]


	11. Breaking the Ice

**11\. Breaking the Ice**

[Last time on _Living Flower_: Rumours have been swirling about Anna, with servants spreading gossip about her spending time with Princess Elsa, trying to curry favour, gain promotion over her elders and betters, and lord it over the rest of them. Anna has tried denying them, and even Gerdason has stepped in, but it hasn't worked too well. Elsa has also been dealing with her own parents' disapproval of this blurring of social lines. But she thinks she has come up with a plan. Anna has been summoned to the stables….]

* * *

Anna stopped and stared for a few seconds in complete shock, then dropped in a quick, formal curtsey. "Your Highness!"

"Please, rise, Anna," the princess said, giving her a smile. "Do you still wish to continue our Sunday afternoons?"

"Wait, what? Continue… our afternoons, Highness?"

Elsa nodded.

"I… I don't understand."

"It's not a good idea if you keep coming to my room, right?" Elsa asked, raising an eyebrow. "People are starting to talk—there's very little I can do in the castle that isn't observed by someone. And I can't exactly go to yours, either. So I have decided we can meet here, away from the other servants, in the last place anyone would expect to find me. No one will care if you spend your free time in the stables, will they? And if I dress up like this, then anyone who sees me will think I'm just a maid, so no one will bother us! We'll be free!"

"Highness, that's… I mean…. Is it safe? Uh, what about Mr Jensen, the groom?"

"From now on, at my order, each Sunday Jensen will be exercising some of the horses. We shall not be disturbed by him."

"And… Kristoff? He's here a lot, too."

"Kristoff's silence is assured," Elsa said firmly. "He is not a silly, gossipy maid. Really, you shouldn't worry. I've thought of everything."

Anna bobbed her head. "No, of course, I'm sorry, Your Highness."

"Oh, one more thing, Anna. The stables are not as private as my quarters, and I should not like to have my plan spoiled by word getting back to my mother the queen. Do not call me 'Highness' or 'Princess' here."

"Of course, High—uh, of course, Miss," Anna said, surprised and uncertain. "Whatever you wish, Miss."

Elsa made a slight face. "Please, 'Miss' makes me sound like my governess. And maids don't call other maids 'Miss' anyway. That would give me away." She paused, then looked Anna in the eyes. "I know it's a little unorthodox, but out here, with me dressed like you, could you just call me 'Elsa'?"

"I could never!" Anna gasped. "Call a prin—call someone like you by her name? It wouldn't be showing you the proper respect!"

"I think I'm the right person to decide what is and is not respectful to me," Elsa said quietly, her gaze firm. "Respect is shown by actions, not empty words."

"Uh, yes, High—El… Elsa," Anna said, her face red with her daring. But Elsa just gave her a smile, her cheeks pink.

"And you must not tell anyone we're doing this, either," she warned. "No one. Maids are terrible gossips. And don't act any different either. Don't show the others anything you've learned. Because Mother suggested there might be some friction if I… er, showed you my favour."

"No, there's no problems, none at all," Anna said, vowing inside to never let the princess know: she would never give her an excuse to stop these sessions.

"Good, good. I was worried that… people might start to say things," Elsa said. "Spread rumours, accusations."

"I don't care what they're going to say," Anna said defiantly.

"Well, I do," Elsa told her. "I won't have you ostracized."

Anna blinked. "Ostrich eyes?"

Elsa laughed. "No, 'ostracized.' It means cast out, ignored, isolated." Her face grew serious. "It's not pleasant, Anna, being isolated from your peers. I won't continue these sessions if it means you will be ostracized."

Anna shook her head furiously. "No, no, no! I'll not let them know. I'll be the good maid they want me to be. Please, don't stop! I love these times so much!"

Elsa smiled. "How can I resist those pleading eyes? Very well. Oh, before we begin, one thing," she added, striking an elegant pose. "After all the lessons on dressing a princess I've given you, now you can return the favour. Tell me, is my outfit correct for a maid? Do I pass muster?"

"Umm, if I might, Mi—Elsa, you should perhaps not wear those silk stockings next time. And… to be honest… you're a little too, well… clean and neat. Oh, and maids don't wear gloves. Perhaps you should remove them," Anna suggested as she took a step towards the princess.

"No!" Elsa gasped, snatching her hands away and darting back.

"I'm sorry!" Anna cried, seeing the sudden fear and anger on the princess's face. "I didn't mean anything!"

"No, no, of course you didn't," Elsa said, holding up her hands placatingly. "I mustn't ever take the gloves off, that's all."

"Oh. I… er, in that case, well…" Anna said, feeling confused. Was this another mysterious princess thing? Ladies never removed their gloves? It was true—apart from in bed, Elsa wore them all the time. "Oh, and you shouldn't have gold and jewels in your hair, either," she added, catching sight of a cluster of gems sparkling in Elsa's thick blonde hair.

"Ah, I forgot about those," Elsa said, giving Anna an embarrassed smile, slipping it off and into a pocket. "Never mind. Next time I'll be the perfect maid. Like you."

"Gosh, thank you," Anna said, blushing.

"Now let us start. Follow me."

The princess led the way to the groom's empty office and sat down behind the cluttered desk. She motioned to Anna to take the other seat, and, with a quick bob of her head, the other girl did so.

"Well, here we are, Anna," Elsa said. There was a short silence as she looked around at the old horseshoes hung on the walls, each neatly labelled with the name of its horse. "Goodness, what a lot of horses we've had over the years. Are your hands clean?"

Surprised at the sudden question, Anna glanced at them, then held them up. "Um, I washed them directly after lunch, so…."

Elsa smiled. "They'll do." She reached up to her neatly-coiled braids, and loosened them, letting her long blonde hair cascade freely down her back. "Today I want to teach you how do hair. When you're my lady's maid, you'll need to do my hair each morning."

"I would like that, High—uh, Elsa," Anna stammered. "Thank you."

"Now, come over here, stand behind me, and hold my hair in three bunches," Elsa ordered.

Swallowing hard at the privilege, Anna carefully moved behind the princess. Her hands shaking slightly, she reached out and touched the other girl's thick, clean, delicately-scented locks, and felt her heart skip. When she was younger, she had been given a doll by the mistress of one of the well-off homes her grandmother did charring for. It had been an old one, with a stained face and half a leg missing, but the five-year-old Anna would spend hours in the evenings dressing it up in scraps of old rags and acting out scenes from the stories of princes and princesses, and of true love's first kiss, that her grandmother would tell her. And more than anything, she loved playing with its long, soft blonde hair, creating fancier and fancier hairstyles. It was a way to escape her dreary, harsh existence and pretend she lived in a world of fairytales and magic. But then one night her father had thrown the doll into the fire in a drunken rage, and Anna had spent nearly a week weeping for the loss of her last shred of childhood innocence.

But now... Anna sighed in happiness: she had her own living doll to create hairstyles for—and one who was a real-life princess as well. It was like her childhood fantasy come to life; like playing with the most perfect doll ever.

* * *

"So where did you get to this afternoon, then?" Hilde asked that night in bed.

"Nowhere," Anna said, remembering the princess's warning.

"Nowhere? I heard you spent the whole afternoon in the stables. You certainly smell like it," the older girl added, waving her hand in front of her nose.

"I do not smell!" Anna shot back. "And nor do the stables!"

"Yeah, well, I guess spending time in the stables is more suited for you than spending time with the princess," Hilde admitted. "You like horses?"

"Uh, I guess," Anna said, deciding that was as good a reason as any to be there.

"Or do you like Kristoff?" Hilde added, looking carefully at Anna.

"He's all right," Anna said. "Talks about ice a bit much."

"And thinks reindeers can understand Norwegian," Hilde scoffed. "Why would you hang out with such an idiot?"

"Well, at least he doesn't accuse me of putting on airs an' graces!" Anna retorted.

"Hey, don't look at me," Hilde said. "I'm not! Leastways, not now. Blame Karin for that."

"Well, you still started it," Anna said.

"I said I was sorry, but fine, be that way."

"I will, thanks." Anna had finished getting ready for bed, and she flounced under the covers with a deliberate lack of grace, making the springs creak loudly.

"If you break your bed, you're not sharing mine," Hilde commented under her breath.

"Don't worry, I'd sooner sleep in the stables," Anna retorted. She ignored Hilde's snort, and took out her book: after the lesson, Elsa had lent her a copy of the first volume of _Grimms' Fairy Tales_, while telling her to tell anyone who asked that Mrs Gerdason had lent it, so she opened it to the first story, "The Frog Prince", and began reading. Anna loved being able to curl up in her warm bed with a book to read for an hour before lights out. Even a simple thing like being able to read in peace was a luxury in her old life.

"What'cha readin'?" Hilde asked after a few minutes.

"A book," Anna replied.

Hilde shrugged. "Fine. Whatever. Don't stay up too late or you'll be too tired to work properly tomorrow, and I'll have to pick up your slack."

"You don't have to worry about me," Anna retorted. She turned away from the other girl, facing the wall, so she could read in peace about the ugly frog who was transformed back into a handsome prince by the kiss of an honest maiden.

* * *

Anna was spending more and more time in the stables, even when Elsa or Kristoff wasn't there, simply as it was somewhere to get some solitude. She would sneak out in her few free hours each day to read some more of the book Elsa had lent her, losing herself in the fantasy worlds of imagination. Being alone wasn't too hard for her—she hadn't had time for many friendships selling matches on the streets, after all. Being despised wasn't a new experience, either—for almost everyone looked down on beggar girls who couldn't even afford shoes. But it was hard when the people who despised her were no better than she was, and when she couldn't tell them her secret. The secret that made her life bearable, infinitely better than being back selling matches. The secret hours she spent each Sunday with Princess Elsa that made all the pain worth it.

But she couldn't spend all her time in the stables. She still had to spend most of it working and attending to her duties, and that meant interacting with the other servants. Especially at meals: while the presence of Kaisson and Gerdason meant that nothing was said while she served the servants' meals, that did not apply to her own meals, eaten afterwards.

"Hey, it's the stable girl! The girl who lives with the horses and reindeer!"

"How could you tell? Oh, of course—the smell!"

Anna ignored the catcalls of the other maids entering the Servants' Hall, and concentrated on carrying on with her story, which she was reading while eating her lunch.

"Where'd you get that?" Karin asked, suddenly snatching Anna's book.

"None of your business," Anna shot back. "Mrs Gerdason lent it to me, so there! And given it back!"

"What's all this ruckus now?"

"Oh, Mrs Gerdason!" Karin called as the head housekeeper entered the room. "Did you really lend Anna this book?"

Gerdason looked surprised for a moment, then nodded. "Of course," she said primly. "Now return it to her immediately. And I am very pleased to see young Anna taking such a diligent interest in reading. You lot would be well served to follow her example and try to better yourselves. Good work, Anna. I'll keep back some multekrem and krumkake back from the family's pudding tonight for you."

"Oh, uh, gosh, thank you, Ma'am," Anna said, glancing nervously at the other maids, who were shooting daggers at both her and, more covertly, the housekeeper. She had been terrified that Elsa had not actually got around to telling Mrs Gerdason what to say, and at the moment she was feeling a confusing mix of emotions: extremely relieved that the lie had been preserved, pleased to be praised and given a rare treat, and at the same time, dreading the extra hatred that Karin and her clique would no doubt be directing at her.

"Well, if you can't curry favour with the princess, might as well curry it with the next most important person," Karin said rather nastily after the housekeeper left, and the other girls laughed.

"She's going down in the world, that's for sure!" one cackled. "Next she'll be trying to get in good with the stable boy—oh, wait, she already is!"

"Yeah, I'll bet if there was anyone lower than a scullery maid, she'd try them, too!"

Anna buried her face in her book as the other girls laughed, willing herself not to cry. They would never see her cry, she vowed. Never. After all, they were wrong—she was still spending time with the princess, and they… they were not. And never would. She was better than them. She was stronger. She would be strong. And never cry.

But it was still hard to be so alone….

* * *

The primroses were over, and the days were getting longer. The last stubborn vestiges of winter had vanished like dew, and the land was growing greener by the day. Anna, perched on her chair so she could peer out the small window in her room, breathed in the sweet fragrance of the early morning air, and sighed.

"I think I can smell summer," she said.

"Summer's months off," Hilde retorted. "Come on, girl, you can't spend all day there. It's Sunday: we have to get our morning chores done before the chapel service."

"I love Sundays," Anna said dreamily as she hopped down from the chair. "Sunday is fun day!"

"Not much fun if you don't get a move on," Hilde warned her. "I suppose you'll be spending the afternoon with that stable lad, Christopher, or whatever his name is."

"Kristoff."

Hilde smirked. "Aren't you a bit young to have a crush?"

Anna's face flushed. "What are you talking about?"

"You know!" Hilde said, her eyes twinkling. "Every Sunday you're like this! You can't wait to get out to the stables. Look! You've gone pink! Proof!" she cackled, pointing at Anna's face.

Anna flushed even redder as Hilde laughed harder. "I do not have a crush on him!" she shot. "You just shut up right now! Or I'll… I'll tell Old Gerdy about those times you've been seeing Hans in secret!"

"Don't you dare!" Hilde hissed. "It's nothing like that!"

"And nor are Kristoff and I," Anna shot back. "So there! So stop making fun of me! All the others do it, and I hate it!"

Hilde raised her eyebrows at the unusual outburst. "We gotta get going," she muttered quietly after a short silence, during which Anna could feel her heart pounding in her ears. By now she knew the other girl well enough to realize that was meant as an apology, and decided to just let it go. At least Hilde wasn't as snide as Karin and the other younger maids. Not that it meant she was exactly a friend, either. But at least she wasn't an enemy: the two girls were getting along moderately well, which Anna was thankful for. Elsa was still a sore topic between them, however, and Anna found living with her roommate went much more smoothly if she simply never referred to the heiress to the throne in any but the most distant, formal terms.

She would have loved to have been able to call Elsa her friend, but even though Anna found herself relaxing more and more around Elsa, helped greatly by the princess wearing her maid's disguise, she could never quite forget the difference in their ranks. But, still…. It was so tempting to think of her a friend. She wanted to, badly. The princess was warm, friendly, intelligent, and had a distinct penchant for sardonic wit that Anna had often made the mistake of taking seriously, or at least until she had learned to look for that slight self-satisfied smirk, that curling up of one side of her lips, often accompanied by a raised eyebrow if Anna was a little slow on the uptake.

Sometimes, not often, but sometimes, however, she seemed to be a totally different person: aloof, distant, cold, and would spend much of the lesson time lost in her own thoughts. On those days, Anna would remember that Elsa was indeed the princess and she just the lowly maid, and that the vast gulf between them could never be bridged.

* * *

After lunch, Anna headed out to the stables, carrying another book Elsa had lent her. She had finished it the previous night—Hilde would sometimes make jokes about Anna reading so much, wondering what a scullery maid needed to read for, but Anna just shook them off.

"Hi, Kristoff, hi Sven," Anna called as she pushed open the stable door, breathing in the familiar scent of straw and large animals.

"Hey, kid," Kristoff said, giving her a wave. "She's not here yet. What you got there?"

"This?" Anna held up the slim volume she was carrying. "It's a book of fairytales the prin—she lent me."

"You can read?" he said with a smirk.

"Hey! I can too read! I can read better 'n you can!"

"I would expect Sven can read better than you can, Kristoff," came Elsa's elegant voice.

Kristoff tugged his forelock, and Anna gave a quick curtsey as the princess walked in, wearing her maid's costume.

"That's true enough, my lady," he said, grinning. "Where I come from, none of us can read too well."

"Wait, what? Aren't you from Arendelle?" Anna asked.

Kristoff shrugged. "Not really. From midsummer I live up in the mountains, cutting ice. My people aren't city folks, y'see."

"He's a Lapplander," Elsa explained. "Many of them are poor mountain folk who live by reindeer herding. Our kingdom has been trying to civilize them, give them better lives, but it's not easy."

"We're just a bunch of stubborn old stone-heads," Kristoff told Anna with a self-deprecating grin. "Set in our ways. I guess we don't want you civilizing us."

"Come, Anna, we need to be getting on," Elsa said, heading down to the far end of the stables.

"So is that why you like reindeer so much," Anna asked Kristoff, lingering by Sven's stall.

"I suppose. I come down and spend the colder months tending the reindeer here, and in summer I harvest ice from the high lakes."

"And you also deliver things and do odd jobs?" Anna asked. "You must be so busy!"

"Not nearly as busy as a scullery maid," he told her. "Not nearly."

"Anna!" Elsa ordered.

"My apologies, High—Elsa," Anna said, bobbing her head and hurrying after the princess.

"Good, let us begin," Elsa said, taking her normal seat. "Oh, is that the book I lent you?" she asked.

"Oh, yes, so it is," Anna said, remembering what she was still holding in her hand. "I finished it already. Thank you ever so much."

"That was fast," Elsa commented, taking it and slipping it into a pocket of her maid's outfit.

Anna nodded. "I've got a lot better, thanks to you. I can read a whole chapter in one evening now, I can," she said, her face shining with pride.

Elsa smiled widely. "Wonderful! So did you like the stories?"

"Oh yes, I love fairy tales! All these wonderful tales of adventure and excitement and romance and love!" She stopped, and sighed. "Although… they were a bit depressing, too."

The princess raised an eyebrow. "Oh? How so?"

"I don't know…. It seems like such a silly thing to say, but sometimes… sometimes I read stories like this, and I wish I was in a world like that."

"Like what?"

"One with happy endings, and dreams, and magic. There aren't always happy endings, not in the real world…."

"No, I suppose not," Elsa said slowly, her voice soft. "At least not for people like you. You deserve a happy ending, Anna. After all, you've lost so much. Even your family. You were all alone in the world before I found you…."

"Well, I had my—" Anna suddenly broke off. She was terrified that the only reason she was allowed to stay was because she was an orphan: that if the princess, or Mrs Gerdason, or anyone knew her father was alive, she would be sent out to live with him again. She couldn't do that; she couldn't go back—not after all this. So she kept her head bowed, not looking the princess in the eye. "I wasn't really alone… I had… I had my grandmother," she said, going slightly pink with embarrassed at hiding the fact that her father was in fact still very much alive and well.

"Oh, of course, I remember. She died recently, you said."

Anna looked up, smiling at the memories. "When she died, it was so hard. It was like my world had ended. I wanted to join her so badly."

"I'm glad you didn't, Anna," Elsa said softly. She picked at her apron. "It must be so hard to lose your family."

"I pray you never lose yours, Highness."

"Just the humble maid Elsa here, not Her Highness, remember," the princess said with a quick smile. "But thank you. I suppose the whole kingdom does, as a matter of course, come to that," she added with a short laugh.

"I suppose," Anna said. "After all, our prayers to God also include prayers for your father, the king."

"It's a strange feeling," Elsa admitted, "to hear a whole church praying for your parents. I don't suppose anyone ever prayed for yours."

"I…" Anna said, suddenly wondering if she had ever prayed for her father, and feeling sure she hadn't. "I prayed for my grandmother," she said. "It… it didn't work."

"It doesn't work for princesses, either," Elsa added after a brief pause. "My grandmother died too, when I was younger. I suppose I have another one, Granny Gothel, but she lives in Corona. That's where my mother comes from. Along with a cousin I never see. That's about it, really. Sometimes I wish I had a bigger family." She stopped, and sighed, then looked at Anna. "Or at least a sister. Wouldn't it be nice to have a sister? Haven't you ever wanted one?"

Anna swallowed, then nodded. "I suppose." She looked down at her boots as she scuffed the scattered straw on the floor around a bit. "I… I had a brother, once. He died."

"Really? I'm so sorry." Elsa paused, biting her lip. "What… what happened?"

Anna stared hard at the floor. "He was always small, and not very strong. He couldn't walk very well, either, so he couldn't work. So my father… my father said it was… good that he died." Anna choked back a sob, and Elsa felt her blood chill.

"I'm… I'm so sorry, Anna," she said, not at all sure what she could say. It was good that he died? Because he was another mouth to feed? She shuddered at the thought.

Anna gave a small shrug, and blinked away a tear. "It was a long time ago. I do remember he was sick a lot. He always seemed to have a chill. Winters were worst. I would hug him, hold him close, try and keep him warm, but… he just got sicker and sicker. Poor Olaf."

Elsa reached out her hand to touch Anna, but hesitated. She could feel her hand chilling, the ice seeping through the silk of her gloves, and didn't want to hurt Anna. It was so hard, sometimes, not being able to touch those you cared about. It was so hard to never be able to touch.

"He's with Grandmamma, now," Anna said quietly. "At least I hope he is. The priest said he would be. The priest said he would be happy, and healthy, and never ever be ill or die." She raised her eyes to look at Elsa. "He said that was a happy ending. But… that's not the sort of happy ending they have in the stories, is it? In the stories, it's always 'they lived happily ever after'. They lived…. But the real world doesn't work like that. Not for children like Olaf. There's no happily ever after, there's no magic. Not any more." She paused, and sighed again, wiping her eyes. "Even if we can't all have happy endings… it would be nice to know there's still some magic out there, like in the stories."

"Oh, I'm sure there is, somewhere," Elsa said, her expression unreadable.

Anna looked down at the floor again. "I wish I could believe that. But there isn't."

There was a long silence. Elsa looked at the young maid, biting her lip. Several times she seemed about to say something, then stopped. Eventually she leaned forward, gazing directly into the other girl's eyes.

"Anna, do you trust me? Do you think I'm a good person?"

Anna blinked. "Well, of course I do."

"I don't want you to ever be afraid of me. Whatever happens. You do know that, right? You know I'm not evil, don't you?"

"Of… of course," Anna said, feeling very confused. "I mean, you saved my life! You gave me a home, a job… you gave me my happy ending. You're not evil—you're good! You're the goodest person—I mean the bestest—the best person I know!"

Elsa smiled briefly, then her face went serious again. For some reason she looked very nervous to Anna. "I… would like to give you something," she said quietly. "Hold out your hand, please."

Puzzled, Anna did so, and, to her surprise, the princess removed one of her gloves, laying it neatly in her lap, and revealing a slim, pale hand with long delicate fingers. Then she gently clasped the other girl's hand. Her hand was soft and smooth, completely free of calluses. But very cold: Anna almost shivered at her touch—no wonder the princess always wore gloves, if her hands were this chilly.

Then it seemed as if Elsa's hand had become even colder, like ice. Anna gasped, the princess gave her a quick, nervous smile, then slowly took her hand away.

"What… what happened?" Anna asked. Then she looked down at her hand and gasped. There, lying in her palm, was a large, perfectly-formed snowflake. She stared down at it, then up at Elsa, who was turning a bright pink. This was impossible, surely? Was the princess… a witch? She felt a shiver of superstitious terror prickle her skin with goosebumps, and then she saw that in the other girl's eyes, mixed with pride and happiness, there was also fear. Anna swallowed hard, reminding herself that Elsa had pleaded with her to trust her, to not to be afraid. So she told herself she would not be. She would never be afraid of the princess.

"Did… did…you...? How...?" she stammered, her eyes wide. "How do you do it? Is it a spell?"

"I don't know," Elsa confessed shyly. "I just can. It's not a spell or anything. I always could."

Anna looked down at the perfect snowflake in her hand as it disappeared rapidly, absorbing the warmth of her skin. "Oh. It's…. it's melting," she said, disappointment tingeing her voice as the magical crystal became a small pool of water, cupped in her palm.

"Would… would you like to see some more?" the young princess asked hesitantly.

Anna looked up. "Can… can you?" she breathed.

Elsa smiled, then gave a quick flick of her wrist. A small flurry of snow suddenly formed in the air, dancing and swirling, catching the low rays of the afternoon sun shining through the dusty stable windows.

Anna's jaw dropped. She tried to get her brain to function, but it seemed to have gone quite blank. This was… this was impossible. Could it be a trick? How? How could the princess make snow? Then her eyes widened as she suddenly remembered the bed sheets she had changed, the ice crystals she found in them. It all made sense to her now. Karin's denial. Hans's jokes about cold rooms and ghosts. This… this was the great secret, hidden from the outside world. This secret, one the princess was terrified of others knowing, but had now revealed to Anna purely to lift her spirits.

Another elegant twirl of Elsa's fingers conjured forth more snow, spiralling up to the ceiling, then drifting down on the two girls. Tiny flakes of silver dusted Anna's upturned face as she stared in amazement and wonder, her mouth open and her expression one of pure joy. Without conscious thought, hardly aware of what she doing, she stood up and slowly spun around, waltzing in the narrow room as gentle flurries of snow encircled her in a shimmering, sparkling cloud.

"You see, Anna," the princess said softly, "there is still some magic left in this world…."

.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S KNOWTES**:

(**Knowtes**: (_n_) **Notes** to help you **Know** things….)

Sorry for the delay. I had the chapter done, then realized that Anna wasn't really earning her reward at the end in an emotional sense, so rewrote parts to make her more unhappy and have her fairytale happiness at the end more justified. I try and do nice things for her, but the trouble is, happy people don't make for very good drama….

Anyway, even without that, July has been a very busy month, and, I confess, I have also been wasting valuable writing time on doing a portrait of Anna and Elsa if they were based on real people. While there's still work to be done on it, I've also created a parody film poster from it and submitted it to DeviantArt—anyone curious can find the link in my profile, or look up DA under "Pixelmangler" (no, I'm not very inventive with pennames. Just as well I don't sing, or you'd probably find my YouTube stuff under "Notemangler"—and in that case it would be _painfully_ accurate).

I've been trying to write Elsa as both a nice person and someone who's spent her whole life accustomed to having her orders obeyed: she acts superior because, in this world, she _is_ superior. I don't want to have her acting completely unguarded and "normal"—at least, not yet. So at this stage Elsa is a bit of a snob—because that's what she's been trained to be. Not to mention that her natural introversion not helping matters. I don't want to write Anna as a Pollyanna doormat either, a little puppy who keeps begging for treats even as she gets kicked. Anna's got her pride, after all. Perhaps a little too much….

Now for some more detailed notes. The more I revised this chapter, the longer these got….

1\. Charring is not burning. It is performing chars, or chores, in domestic service. Charwomen were even lower than maids, going around to several different houses for hourly wages. Henry Mayhew, whom we encountered regarding the watercress sellers, also has a good deal to say about these other denizens of the poorer areas. He describes the home of a London dockworker thus: "The room was about 7 feet square, and, with the man and his wife, there were eight human creatures living in it. In the middle of the apartment, upon a chair, stood a washing-tub foaming with fresh suds, and from the white crinkled hands of the wife it was plain that I had interrupted her in her washing. On one chair, close by, was a heap of dirty washing, and on another was flung the newly-washed. […] On my observing to the woman that I supposed she dried the clothes in that room, she told me that they were obliged to do so, and it gave them all colds and bad eyes." Another reason for making her a charwoman is that while domestic servants (maids) tended to be young and single, charwomen were older, and often married.

2\. The bit about getting a hand-me-down from the mistress of the richer house is actually also from Mayhew. The same eight-year-old watercress seller I drew on for some of Anna's background also stated "Oh, yes; I've got some toys at home. […] The Jews gave 'em to me where I go to on a Friday, and that's why I said they was very kind to me." Said Jews being ones she works for: "On a Friday night, too, I goes to a Jew's house till eleven o'clock on Saturday night. All I has to do is to snuff the candles and poke the fire. You see they keep their Sabbath then, and they won't touch anything; so they gives me my wittals and 1½d., and I does it for 'em." ("wittals" = victuals, or food). That's also about the best meal she gets all week, considering dinner (tea: dinner in the original refers to what we now call lunch) was normally just a couple of slices of bread and some tea.

At least accounts such as Mayhew's helped direct the attention of the emerging middle classes to the poverty of those ground underfoot by the Industrial Revolution, and matters slowly improved. The watercress girl herself may have been lucky enough to be one of the recipients of the many, many donations that Mayhew's ongoing accounts managed to solicit, which would often be given with instructions for passing the money on to specific people in his narration. I don't know if the watercress girl got any, but considering that even about 150 years later hers is one of his most well-known accounts, I believe she would have.

3\. _The Frog Prince_ (or Frog King) is indeed the first story in Grimms' Grim (they were grim, back then) Fairy Tales (original title: _Children's and Household Tales_: I used the more common English one to keep it from being too obscure). It was published in two volumes until 1857, and while the original story of the Frog Prince had him reveal his true form when flung brutally against the wall, by 1823 the more standard kiss reveal had arrived. Then Disney got hold of it and added the very necessary jazz-trumpet playing alligator, which for some reason the Grimm brothers forgot to include.

4\. "Multekrem" is a traditional Norwegian dessert made by mixing cloudberries with whipped cream and sugar. It is common to serve multekrem with krumkake. "Pudding," for my American readers, does not refer to a sort of wobbly eggy custardy thing, but "dessert," which is called "pudding" in Britain, especially upper-class households. See the article "Pudding vs Dessert – The Prosecution &amp; The Defence" for more on this distinction. In fact, "dessert" traditionally refers to fruit and the like served right at the very end.

5\. "The primroses were over" line is the opening line from _Watership Down_. If you haven't read it, do so. If you haven't seen the animated film, do so—and don't expect Thumper and fluffy bunnikins. I was very young when I first saw it, and some of the images haunted me for years. In other words, it ain't Disney.

6\. The service I refer to is the church service that all staff would have been required to attend. Given for the family, who would attend upstairs in comfy seats, the staff would usually be required to attend as well, to get the Word of God hammered into them some more.

7\. The addition of a slightly dry, sarcastic wit to Elsa is based on those posters of her with the famous Dreamworks Smirk™. The only time in the film she appears self-satisfied enough to give that expression is after she creates her castle and declares that the cold never bothered her anyway.

8\. "Lapplander" is the older term for "Sami" and so is presumably what Norwegians would have termed them in the 19th century. Elsa's paternalistic, condescending tone is designed to reflect how (I gather) they would have been seen at the time. Remember, in historical times, good people can act in ways they wouldn't act now, but that doesn't make them bad. Elsa genuinely believes that the advantages of modern, 19th century civilisation are automatically better, and Kristoff isn't stupid enough to take too much umbrage. I also don't want to have Elsa (or Anna) free of any flaws. Both girls are, as much as I can realistically make them, products of their environments. For better or worse. In Elsa's case, this includes the assumption that your own way of life is so much better than the alternative, and anyone refusing the chance to be given it needs to be forced to for their own good. An all-too-common view in Victorian era Europe.

9\. Talking of praying for royalty, there's a fun quote from Edward, Prince of Wales, son of Queen Victoria and (much) later King Edward VII: "I don't mind praying to the eternal Father but I must be the only man in the country afflicted with an eternal mother." This is, of course, a reflection on Victoria's longevity, and I suspect Prince Charles feels much the same way….

10\. European royalty is inbred as it is: having the king and queen both come from such a tiny place as Arendelle would be practically incest. It's much more likely to have been a political marriage, though not to a very powerful royal house I would imagine, as Arendelle is so small. Political marriages can be happy ones—just ask Queen Elinor, Princess Merida's mother. I do think _Brave_ should have made more out of the fact that Dunbroch is a very new kingdom, held together by sheer force of will at the moment—this is why Merida's marriage is so very important. "Granny Gothel" is of course a reference to Mother Gothel ("Gothel" actually just means "godmother" in SW German dialects). The "cousin she never sees" is a stealth reference to Rapunzel hidden in her tower….

11\. Elsa losing her family? It's not so much foreshadowing for this story, but we all know what happens to them in reality. Wait, did I just write "reality" about a Disney cartoon movie? You know what I mean. I hope….

12\. The "happy ever after in death" is a nod to (or a stab at) the idea behind Andersen's _Little Match Girl_, which he genuinely did see as a happy ending for her. And not, say, being rescued from a life of misery by a rich family…. . Oh, and the name "Olaf" is not random….

I am so tempted to add reference numbers for these notes directly to the story, only that would ruin it. I saw one done like that, and no. Just… no.

And now my chapter notes are officially longer than many people's actual chapters. Must… control… urge to lecture….

[Posted 25-Jul-14]

[Edited: 30 March 2015]


	12. The Fears That Once Controlled Her

**12\. The Fears that Once Controlled Her**

[**Apology**: Terribly sorry about the long wait. It's been a very busy time of year. I don't want people to think the up has been given. To make up for it, it's longer than normal. I hope that it's also decent quality...]

[**Last time on ****_Living Flower_**: Elsa has revealed her secret to Anna to cheer her up after Anna was depressed about her hard life, being teased, and her brother Olaf's premature death.]

* * *

That night, Anna lay awake in her room for hours, her mind whirling with what she had seen, and what it implied. Elsa had created snow from… from nothing, from her hands, just by waving them around! That was impossible! Anna had sometimes seen itinerant street magicians performing conjuring tricks, but they were nothing to this. And anyway, she knew that magicians were phonies, that it was all an illusion. Could this have been? But how? She had felt the snow's coldness, seen it melt in her hand—it was real snow; snow, where there could be none. So what could that mean?

There was only one answer. The princess… Princess Elsa, the heir to the throne of Arendelle… was… a witch? A sorceress? But how was that even possible? Was there some other explanation? It was a miracle. Did that mean Elsa was an angel? After all, Anna remembered that once, at church, the priest had said that with God, all things were possible. That, she felt, was more suited to the princess than being a witch, but…? But no, that couldn't be the right answer. Angels didn't live on Earth but up above the clouds, in Heaven. What other explanation was there? Did magic really still exist, as the princess had told her? Magic couldn't be real, could it? Or had she dreamt the whole thing? Could she have?

Her mind racing, Anna lay awake for what seemed like hours, listening to Hilde's steady breathing and the soft creaking of her bed as she shifted in her sleep, and going over and over the events of the afternoon. At some stage she fell asleep herself, and her dreams were filled with strange imagery, of great ice castles high on snowy peaks, snow houses, and an entire kingdom made of snow, lived in by little snow men and women and children who would milk snow cows and plough with snow horses, and eat delicious snow cakes topped with snow berries and piles of snow cream.

By the time she awoke in the cold, clear light of morning, however, she had almost convinced herself that the whole thing was just another dream: there was of course no proof, and she couldn't exactly ask the other servants. For one thing, Elsa had always made it clear that she wasn't to discuss their afternoons together, and after having nearly had them taken away all together, Anna wasn't about to tempt fate. Besides, how could she possibly broach the topic, and, more importantly, to whom?

Anna decided not to say a word to Hilde about her afternoon, and got dressed and started her morning chores without giving any hint that anything was different. Easing open the door to Elsa's room, she tiptoed inside, casting curious glances at the sleeping princess. Was she really some sort of snow sorceress? It was even harder to believe seeing her lying there, so peaceful… so ordinary. Well, ordinary apart from being a princess, Anna reminded herself with a quick smile. The room was certainly rather cold, but that was to be expected: even though it was now spring, the mornings were still crisp. No, nothing had changed, the princess wasn't a witch; it was silly to think that, and so Anna went out cleaning the grate and lighting the fire like she always did. Although perhaps with a few more questioning glances at the sleeping princess than normal….

Then, just as she was quietly easing open the door to leave, she felt a gentle, cold touch on her nose. Startled, she looked up to see a few flakes of snow falling softly from the ceiling. A thrill ran through her at the sight, and she whirled around. But Elsa appeared to be still fast asleep—except with a wide smile on her mouth and one bare hand resting on her pillow.

"It's real!" Anna whispered to herself on the other side of the door, hugging her slim frame in her excitement. "It wasn't a dream!" The princess really was magical! Anna felt a rush of excitement and happiness flood over her, and the rest of the day passed in a sort of dreamlike haze as she processed what she had seen.

* * *

The rest of the week passed agonizingly slowly, however. Anna would get glimpses of the princess from time to time, but never had a chance to speak with her, and no more snow fell on her nose in the mornings. She would lie awake at night, her book forgotten, thinking about Elsa and her power, and the wonders she had seen, and wish that she could wake up and it would be Sunday already.

But the long-awaited day finally came, and that afternoon, as soon as she was free, Anna practically ran out to the stables, almost forgetting the bucket of cabbage leaves and carrots for Sven.

"Woah there, feisty-pants! What're you in such a rush for?" Kristoff asked as Anna almost threw the bucket at him and sped on past.

"I'm late!" Anna shot back.

"She's not here yet, you know!" he called.

Anna skidded to a halt. "Oh, yeah. I suppose not."

"What are you in such a rush for anyway?" the blond boy asked, scratching Sven around the ears.

"Oh, nothing. I mean, Elsa's been giving me lessons, and I don't want to keep her waiting."

"Uh, Elsa?"

Anna went a bit pink. "I mean, Her Highness."

"What are you two always talking about? I mean, I don't want to pry or anything."

"So don't," Anna suggested brightly, smiling at him.

"But seriously," he continued, ignoring Anna's response, "what are you up to?"

"Never you mind!" Anna called back. "It's… uh, girl stuff! You wouldn't be interested!"

"I might be!" he shot back. "Well, no, probably not. She's more interesting than Sven? You don't spend much time with him these days."

"I'm sorry, Sven," Anna said, scratching the reindeer under his chin. "Really. I've been so busy lately with my work. Here, have a carrot from me."

"Thank you! I love carrots!"

Anna gasped. First the princess making snow, now talking reindeer!

"He talked! Sven talked! I don't believe it!"

"Well, I'm only the most intelligent one here. Of course I can—ow!"

"Oi!" Anna called to Kristoff, hitting him on the arm. "That was you, you _dumming_! Sven wasn't talking at all! You tricked me!"

"And you fell for it," the blond boy said, laughing.

"Humph!" Anna said, pouting. "I cannot spend all day talking with idiots like you! I have business with the princess!"

"From what I overhear, it sounds like she's teaching you how to be a princess, you know," Kristoff said with a wry grin.

Anna laughed. "Of course not! Wait, have you been listening?" she asked, looking angry. "How dare you!"

"Hey, hey!" he said, raising his hands up. "These walls aren't that thick, you know. I can hear you two sometimes."

"Well, if you must know, she's not teaching me to be a princess, just to be a princess's maid. But you mustn't tell anyone!"

Kristoff shrugged. "If you say so. Don't see what the big deal is, anyway. But then I'm not indoors staff. So why'd you need lessons in being a maid? Aren't you one already? What's she teaching you?" he added, wiping his nose and looking with interest at the yellow-green substance on his finger. Then he stuck his finger in his mouth, licking it clean.

Anna shuddered. "Well, not to do that for a start, _du svin_! That's gross!"

"What?" he asked, looking confused.

"You ate your booger!"

Kristoff shrugged. "All men eat their own boogers."

"They do not!" Anna said loudly. "I'll bet the king never does!"

"I'll bet he does!"

"He does not! Oh, you are such a pig! Boys!"

Anna flounced off, her head held high. Kristoff looked after her, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Well, you showed her," he said in a deeper voice, leaning close to Sven. "Showed who?" he asked in his normal voice. Then he switched to a deeper one. "Anna. I could tell she was impressed by your manly ways." Kristoff looked at the reindeer. "You think so? Yes, I do. She definitely was."

* * *

Elsa walked quickly across the courtyard, dressed in a neat, clean maid's outfit, with a large wide-brimmed hat concealing her features. Her heart was pounding with anticipation, worrying what Anna would say when they met, or even if she would be there. Could she have been scared off, be too afraid to be with her again? The princess had spend much of the past week wishing she'd never revealed her powers, even though Anna had seemed so amazed and happy to see them. So many times she'd told herself that Anna had really been too scared of her to say anything, too in awe of the princess to let her know just how horrified she'd been.

And to top it all off, as if that afternoon wasn't enough, she'd teased the maid with a few flakes the following morning, removing all possibility of telling her it had just been a dream or illusion. She'd been careful not to repeat the act, and had avoided Anna as much as possible all week—which, she admitted to herself, was not that hard to do, considering their respective ranks.

Why had she allowed herself to be so moved by Anna's sad past, to want to cheer her up with a silly, frivolous display? It was safest to bottle it all up, conceal it all, and not allow herself to feel such strong emotions. That was the safe path, the one her parents wanted her to walk. The sensible path, the one that the next queen of Arendelle was always expected to follow. She sighed. It was so hard to be sensible sometimes, though….

Elsa pushed open the stable door, and made a slight face. The silly stable lad, Kristoff, was talking to his reindeer again.

"Is she here?" Elsa asked, wondering what she would do if Anna wasn't coming.

Kristoff jumped, and nodded his head in greeting. "She arrived a moment ago, High—my lady, I mean…."

"There's no one else here?"

The boy nodded. "Just me and Sven," he said.

"Good. Go and give him some exercise," Elsa said. "Don't come back for a few hours. I do not wish to be disturbed."

"Uh, very well. As you command," he said, looking surprised. "Come on, Sven, let's stretch our legs! So you're finally giving me some exercise? Why yes I am! Come on!"

Raising an amused eyebrow at the different voices the blond boy was using, Elsa brushed past and headed down to the groom's office. As she pushed open the door, Anna spun around in shock, her eyes wary.

"Uh, er, good afternoon, er, Elsa," the maid stammered.

Elsa took a deep breath. "Good afternoon," she replied formally. "Uh, are you ready for the lesson? Did you read the book I gave you?"

"Uh, I did, er, well, most of it…" Anna said nervously. Elsa took her seat, and gestured to the other one. Anna sat down, and looked at the other girl with questioning eyes. Elsa almost said something about the previous Sunday, but lost her nerve at the last minute.

"Was it… was the book interesting?" she asked instead.

"Some of it was quite hard," Anna said, fidgeting restlessly. "I'm sorry I didn't finish it. It was… I was thinking about other things… a lot…."

She gave the princess a quick glance, then looked down at her hands. There was a brief, awkward, silence.

"Where did you—" she started to ask, but Elsa began speaking at the same time.

"Anna… about last Sunday…" the princess said. "I, er… I'm still the same Elsa, you know. Only…."

"Only… different," Anna breathed. "Everything's different."

"No, Anna, nothing's different, I swear," Elsa said, leaning forward.

But before she could say anything more, the door to the office suddenly opened and Kaisson walked in. Anna immediately jumped up and curtseyed.

"Careful, Anna!" he said sternly, though with an indulgent twinkle in his eye. "Don't let Mr Jensen catch you lounging about on his chairs—"

The butler broke off and glared at Elsa, who was still seated, smoothing her gloves. He coughed meaningfully, raising an eyebrow.

"What is it, Kaisson?" Elsa asked, not looking up.

"What the devil do you mean, 'what is it, Kaisson?" he thundered. "Just who do you think you are?"

To Anna's horror, he suddenly cuffed Elsa on the back of her head, almost knocking her hat off. Anna caught a glimpse of the princess 's face, distorted with sudden fury, then it quickly resumed its normal elegant composure as she scrambled to stand up while keeping her face as hidden as possible.

"My… my apologies, Kaisson—Mr Kaisson, sir," she said, trying to imitate Anna's lower-class accent, and keeping her head bowed down.

"What the devil's got into you… uh…. Who are you?"

"Beggin' yer pardon, me lud, I'm… El… er, I'm... Hanna."

"Are you new here, Hanna?" Kaisson asked while Anna stuffed her fist in her mouth to keep from giggling.

"Uh, no, no sir, been here a goodly while, sir, I have, yes, sir," Elsa said, bowing low.

"Then you should be aware of who I am, and the respect owed me," Kaisson rumbled, raising an imperious eyebrow.

"Of course, sir. My… er, my apologies. I was… distracted."

"Well, don't let it happen again, y'hear?"

"Yes, sir," Elsa said, bowing even lower.

"Were you looking for Kristoff, Mr Kaisson?" Anna asked, trying to distract him, as she was not sure how much longer Elsa could keep up the pretence.

"Kristoff? What business would I have with a stable hand? I'm looking for Mr Jensen, the groom."

"The… I believe the princess ordered him to exercise the horses," Anna said. "He will be back by the evening."

"I see," Kaisson said. "Most annoying. Well, don't just stand there! Aren't you supposed to be cleaning his office? Then get back to work!"

"Uh, yes, sir, right away sir," Anna said, realizing that otherwise they would have no excuse to be in the groom's office.

"Very well then. Make sure you're done before Mr Jensen returns. And you," he added, glaring at Elsa. "Remember your manners in future! What if Mrs Gerdason were to hear your insolence? Or even the princess herself?"

"I promise you, sir," Elsa said softly, "the princess will never have cause for offence."

Anna met Elsa's eyes, peeking out from under her hat and shining with happiness, and grinned as the butler turned and left. When he was gone the princess burst out laughing.

"That was amazing! He didn't recognize me one bit! Just by dressing up in this costume!" Elsa swept off her hat and did a quick pirouette. "I should do this more often—I feel so free!"

"Are… are you all right, Highness?" Anna asked. "Did he hurt you?"

Elsa rubbed the back of her head. "I suppose he did a bit, I admit. Is that what he does to you?"

"Well, sometimes," Anna said. "When I deserve it. I'm amazed you didn't say something, to be honest. I thought you were going to tell him off."

"I very nearly did," Elsa admitted. "But I was just so amazed he didn't recognize me at all—he actually dared to strike me! Me!" She stopped, and gave Anna a wry smile. "And I suppose I didn't want to have to tell him he'd just struck his princess."

"He would not have been happy," Anna said, giggling.

"Not happy at all," Elsa agreed, laughing as she sat down again. "This was fun! It was like I was a totally different person! We should do this again! Maybe dress me up like a scullery maid and I can walk through the Servants' Hall and see who spots me!"

"That would be such fun!" Anna exclaimed, taking the other chair. "You could do it, you could! You were so good at acting like a servant!"

"Well, once I remembered I was supposed to be one," Elsa added, giggling. Then her face grew sombre. "You have to be good at acting to be me," she said softly, looking down at her gloved hands. "To be a princess, that is," she quickly added, glancing back up at Anna's puzzled face. "You always have to conceal what you really feel."

"Well, so do I," Anna admitted. "I always have to be polite, even when I'm in a bad mood. Or else I might get cuffed like that, or worse."

"Yes, but you letting slip your true feelings about how silly the Duke of Weselton's toupee looks will only get you dismissed," Elsa said with a slight smirk and a raised eyebrow. "Me doing the same thing could have serious economic repercussions on the entire kingdom if Great Britain decides to stop buying our cod."

Anna laughed. "So how silly is his toupee?"

"Very," Elsa told her firmly. "And he's so short that everyone can see clearly how silly it is."

Both girls laughed, and then there was a short silence.

"Are… are we really going to spend all afternoon on the history of Arendelle?" Anna asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, to be honest…. Arendelle's history is a little, well… dull. Nothing but stories of kings and queens and…." She broke off, looking at the princess, her cheeks red. "I'm sorry."

Elsa laughed. "I suppose it's a bit more interesting when it's about your own family. But it's still important to know who we are, where we came from."

"I suppose," Anna said reluctantly. "But do we have to do history today in particular?"

Elsa looked at the redhead girl, her face a study in carefully affected innocence. "Why, is there something you'd prefer to do?" she asked, ostentatiously fiddling with her gloves. "I wonder: should I take these off? Do you think I should?"

Anna's eyes opened wide. "Oh, oh, oh yes! Are you going to do the magic?"

The princess raised an eyebrow. "Hmm? And what magic would that be?" she asked, a teasing smile on her lips.

"The—the snow magic! Please? Pretty please? Pretty please with sugar on top? O great and noble one!"

"O great and noble one?" Elsa repeated, with a barely concealed smirk. "Well, since you put it like that… how can I say no?"

"You'll do it?" Anna squeaked, her voice rising in her barely-contained excitement. "Now?"

Elsa looked around, and frowned. "Hmm. It's not really such a good idea to make it snow indoors. It can be a bit messy afterwards."

"What about last week?" Anna asked, her face falling.

"Oh, but that was such a very small amount."

Anna's eyes went round. "You can make more? How much more?"

"Quite a bit more," the princess said, her eyes smiling. "Are you quite sure you would like to see?"

"Oh yes, yes, yes, yes!"

Elsa smiled widely. "In that case…. I've got an idea—follow me!"

The princess dashed out of the stables, with the scullery maid hard on her heels laughing in excitement. They rounded a few buildings, and stopped outside a low wooden door in a high brick wall. Elsa turned to Anna, her eyes shining, and put a finger to her lips.

"Keep quiet until we're at the far end. My parents might see us."

"See us?"

Elsa didn't reply. Instead, she pushed the door open, and led Anna into a beautiful garden filled with trees and flowers.

Anna gasped. She had known, of course, that there was a garden in the castle grounds, and had seen glimpses of it from time to time from the windows, but she had never realized it was so beautiful.

"It's so lovely, so magical," she breathed.

"This is our private garden," Elsa said softly. "We're—you're—not supposed to be in here, ever. It's a place where my parents and I can retreat to, away from prying eyes. But my parents won't be in it at this time on a Sunday. Come, over this way."

Elsa led the way unerringly along carefully-kept paths as Anna gazed around her, lost in admiration at the beauty she could see. It was a naturalistic garden in the English Romantic style, and while it was not large, it was cleverly designed with rock formations and groves of trees, creating a series of small tableaux to give the illusion that it was bigger than it was.

"Here we are," Elsa said, stopping under the base of a round corner tower.

Anna looked around. They were in a small grassy clearing with a disused fountain set in stone paving in the middle, and surrounded by trees and tall standing stones.

"What is this place?" she asked, looking around.

"It's a little secret corner of the garden," Elsa said. "Here, we can't be seen from the castle."

"What about the tower guards?" Anna asked, looking up.

Elsa laughed. "We haven't had guards in these towers for, I don't know. All my life. Who's going to attack our tiny, remote kingdom? It's just a storeroom now."

"We're here now!" Anna cried, her eyes shining. "Do the magic! Do the magic!"

The young princess smiled at Anna's eagerness. Slowly, teasingly, drawing out the moment, she removed first one long glove, then the other, tossing them to the other girl.

"They're cold!" Anna gasped, running her fingers over the soft, smooth silk texture.

"I'm always cold," Elsa told her. "That is, I don't feel cold, but I am cold. In winter my breath never makes clouds."

"High—Elsa," Anna asked as she tucked the gloves carefully into one of her pockets. "Might I ask... how long have you… been able to, uh…."

"Do this?" Elsa asked, twirling her wrist and sending a fountain of snow into the air, most of which drifted down onto Anna's upturned face. The younger girl caught a few flakes with her tongue, and giggled ecstatically. "All my life," the princess said. "Even when I was very young, I remember making little snowflakes. Tiny little ones that danced and sparkled in the sunlight. It was such fun. At first…."

"That sounds amazing," Anna said, looking at Elsa out of the corner of her eye, wondering why the princess had trailed off like that.

Elsa caught her gaze, and laughed. "So, do I still look normal to you?"

Anna nodded. "Of course! Well, I mean, you still look like a normal princess."

Elsa raised an eyebrow, "Not a normal person?"

"Well, princesses are cleaner, neater, more beautiful than normal people…."

Elsa went pink. "I'm not that beautiful," she said. "Have you seen my latest official portrait? I look like my mother!"

"The queen is beautiful too," Anna said. She sighed. "I wish I were beautiful."

"You are," Elsa said. "Now that you've been cleaned up, and are eating properly."

"But I'm just a maid," Anna said. "I could never be beautiful."

"You're a girl, like me," Elsa said. "And you are beautiful already. Take a look." She waved her hand in a circular motion, conjuring up a round sheet of ice, perfectly smooth, and held it up so that it reflected both the girls. "See? We could almost be sisters—apart from the hair colour."

"But your skin is so beautiful, so pale," Anna breathed, seeing their two faces so close together.

"I don't get out much," Elsa admitted.

"Why not?" Anna asked before she could stop herself.

The princess's face darkened. "I soon learned my power was not something you talked about with others, not something you ever let them know. So I stay in the castle mostly."

"You mean, you never go out and play? Never go into the city and go shopping or go a nice restaurant or nothing?"

"You mean 'anything'," Elsa said. She shook her head. "No. Only for official events, like masses at the cathedral. That's how I met you, remember?"

Anna nodded vigorously. "Of course! I'll never forget that, ever! That was the best day of my life, because I got to come and live here, with you!"

Elsa smiled, dimpling her pale cheeks. "I'm glad you did, Anna. It's nice having someone to talk to. I can tell you things I couldn't ever tell any of the girls from the peerage. But remember, this doesn't leave the castle: no one outside must ever know."

"Of course," Anna said. "Er, what about inside? The staff… they know?"

Elsa nodded. "We couldn't keep it secret from them. Too many… accidents. Too many frozen sheets. But we only have the bare minimum, and they aren't allowed to ever discuss it, on pain of death." The princess smiled. "Or at least on pain of banishment. Apart from them, I think the only other person who knows is the current Bishop of Arendelle."

"How come?" Anna asked. "Did you ask him to pray to help you?"

Elsa laughed. "No! Or at least I didn't—my parents might have. But no. One mass, when I was taking communion, I was so nervous that, well, I frozen the communal wine. In summer, so I couldn't pretend it was like that anyway. The priest was most… surprised."

Anna giggled at the image. "What happened? He didn't tell anyone?"

"He was going to," Elsa said quietly. "Talking about the Bible, and his duty to God, and witches, and all that."

"What happened?"

"It turns out all men have their price, Anna," Elsa said with a wry smile. "His was being appointed bishop."

The girl whistled. "That's a very high price."

Elsa nodded. "We had to be certain. If word got out that the heir to the throne of Arendelle was a… a witch, well… it wouldn't be good," she finished.

"A witch?" Anna gasped. "You're not a witch!"

Elsa smiled. "What would you call someone who can do this, then?" she asked, flicking her finger to send a small spurt of snowflakes dancing into the air.

"But witches are ugly old hags, riding on broomsticks! Not beautiful young princesses!"

"You've been reading too many fairy tales, I think," Elsa said with a smile. Then her face turned serious. "Yes, they would consider me a witch. Did you know that the last person executed as a witch was just half a century ago, in Switzerland?"

"Executed!" Anna gasped. "How horrible! You think they'd execute you? For making snow?"

Elsa nodded. "Remember what the Bible says: Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live. It might be the 19th century now, the age of science, and we might have all this wonderful new technology, but I think peoples' biases last a long time. I don't think the people would accept… someone like me… as their ruler."

"They'll love you as much as I do," Anna said. "I wish I could take you out there, into the city, and show you."

"Perhaps… perhaps we could do that, later," Elsa said. "Not right now."

"If you go outside dressed like this, no one will ever recognise you," Anna said.

Elsa shook her head. "That's not the point. I might still reveal my… my powers, by mistake. It might cause… problems. No, it's best I don't go outside too much, or mingle with others. I need to be alone, for my safety… and theirs."

"Theirs?"

"I thought we were going to do the magic?" Elsa asked quickly, avoiding the question. "Not worrying about what other people might think of me. You want to see what I can do?"

"Oh, oh yes please!" Anna squealed, a thrill of anticipation shivering up her spine as she looked at Elsa with wide, pleading eyes. Elsa smiled back, and rotated her hands around each other. Anna could see a bright glow forming, which quickly faded into a small, contained flurry of snowflakes, whirling around and around in a tight sphere, growing more and more compact as Elsa continued moving her hands, shaping the snow into a ball. She then gave Anna an evil grin, and suddenly threw the snowball at her.

Shrieking in happiness and excitement, Anna dodged, but she was not fast enough: the snow splattered on her shoulder.

"Too slow!" Elsa called out. "Catch this one!"

This time Anna was in time, and managed to catch the large snowball that came her way. She repacked it more tightly, and circled the older girl warily, looking for an opening. Elsa had created her own new snowball, and both girls threw at the same time.

Coughing through a mouthful of fresh snow, Anna wiped her face to see Elsa standing there, her arm extended, with the ball Anna threw hovering in the air just beyond her fingertips.

"You think you can defeat the Snow Princess?" Elsa cried. With her other hand, she created another ball of snow, and sent it tumbling towards Anna. It was moving strangely slowly, however, and Anna had no problem in plucking it out of the air. Then, as she was dancing around, she stumbled. Elsa jumped forwards to try and catch her, and suddenly found her own face plastered with snow as Anna regained her balance from her fake-out, laughing.

"You dare strike your princess?" Elsa gasped, striking a regal pose as the snow magically floated away from her face.

Horrified, Anna bowed low. "My… my apologies, Your Highness. I… I..." She bent down, shaking in fear. She knew she shouldn't have forgotten her place. She knew she shouldn't have forgotten she was just a maid, and Elsa was the princess. What would happen to her now?

"As punishment, you will be required to… help me make a snowman!"

"Make… a snowman?" Anna raised her head, wondering if she'd heard correctly.

"Anna? Do you want to make a snowman?" Elsa asked, bending down.

"You're… you're not angry with me?"

"Angry? Oh, of course not, Anna! I was joking! I'm sorry, I never realized you'd…. Oh, Anna, I am sorry! I shouldn't have teased you like that. I just forgot you were only a maid for a moment."

"I… I forgot you were a princess, too," Anna said shyly, standing up. "My apologies."

Elsa's eyes sparkled. "You don't know how happy that makes me," she said. "I know it's hard for you to understand, but when you're a princess, sometimes it's nice not to be treated like you're made of the finest crystal. Remember, Anna, when we're together like this, away from the others, I'm just Elsa, a girl like you."

Anna blushed. "Thank you."

"I mean it, Anna," Elsa said. "Don't ever be afraid of me, please. I don't want anyone to be afraid of me. I have to hide away, conceal my gift, who I am. I don't let anyone know…. Because they will be afraid."

"It must be hard, never being able to be yourself," Anna said quietly.

"It is, sometimes…. Very hard…."

There was a short silence, then Elsa laughed. "Forget it," she said. "Come on, you were going to help me make a snowman, right?"

"Oh! Yes, of course!" Anna exclaimed. "The snowman!"

Elsa smiled at the younger girl, then moved her hands in a smooth, elegant motion, almost as if she were dancing. As she did so, before Anna's astounded eyes, streamers of sparkling ice flowed from her hands, and there in front of her a snowman took form: stumpy, with a goofy overbite, and two small snowballs in front for legs.

"That's amazing!" Anna gasped as Elsa went pinkish.

"I haven't made a snowman in ages," the princess confessed. "I haven't made anything fun like this for, oh, years. Do you like him?"

"He's wonderful! Anna cried. Then she looked more closely. "But what about his arms?"

Elsa pointed to a low shrub, and gestured. A swirl of snow blew up, carrying with it two dry twigs, which flew over and embedded themselves in either side of the torso.

"That's incredible!" Anna exclaimed, her eyes sparkling. "It's like magic! I mean, it is magic! Real magic!"

"There he is, all finished!" Elsa exclaimed.

"Oh, oh! Wait! We need—!" Anna cried, and dashed off.

Startled, Elsa looked after her, wondering if she should go after the girl, but Anna was back in a few moments, a triumphant grin on her face.

"You forgot this!" she said, holding out a large carrot. "I borrowed it from Sven!"

Elsa laughed. "Be my guest," she said, gesturing to the snowman's unadorned face.

Anna shoved the carrot in, managing to push it almost all the way through his head by mistake. Elsa burst out laughing at the sight. "He's like a little bitty unicorn!" she said, giggling.

Anna dissolved into giggles as well, and Elsa made a gesture with her hand. The carrot slid through the snow, pushing out to form a proper nose, and then another quick gesture fixed it in place with some ice.

"Perfect!" Anna exclaimed, clapping her hands.

"What shall we call him?" Elsa asked.

"Um…. What do you think?"

"Well, he's a snowman, but a small one, so what's a nice boy's name? A special name, perhaps?"

Anna looked down at her feet. "Could we… call him Olaf?"

Elsa smiled warmly. "Of course we could, if you'd like that." She made a rapid gesture with her hand, and a long slim blade of ice stabbed out.

Anna jumped in shock and took a few steps back, watching nervously as elegant filigrees curved out from the hilt, forming a lacy guard that sparkled in the sun.

Elsa's face fell. "No, Anna, don't be afraid, please! I'm not a witch! Please, don't be afraid of me!"

Anna bit her lip, trying to calm herself. "I'm not. I'm sorry. I was just a bit… surprised. That's all," she added, smiling. "That's a beautiful sword. What're you going to do with it?"

"This," Elsa said with a self-satisfied smirk. She tapped the snowman gently on both shoulders with her ice sword. "Snowman, I dub thee Sir Olaf," she said, trying to keep a straight face as Anna laughed.

"Oh, oh, can I try?" Anna asked.

Elsa smiled, and handed over the ice sword.

"Oh, it's so cold!" Anna exclaimed, dropping it in shock. She tried to grab it, then cried out in pain, the sword falling from her hand and shattering on the ground.

"What is it?" Elsa gasped, her heart almost stopping in fear. "Are you… are you all right?"

Anna sucked her thumb, making a face. "I cut myself! It's sharp!"

"Let me see!"

Anna took her thumb out of her mouth, and showed it to the princess, who breathed a sigh of relief.

"See, it's just a small cut," the redhead girl said. "I'm fine. I was just clumsy. I've cut myself worse in the kitchen before, many times."

"I'm really sorry, Anna," Elsa said in small voice. "I forget how cold my ice is. I don't feel the cold like normal girls."

"Next time I'll wear gloves, don't worry," Anna said. "See, it's stopped bleeding already."

Elsa nodded, her face solemn. "I'm so glad. Still, you need something else to make it all better."

"What?" Anna asked, looking confused.

"A nice warm hug," Elsa called, hiding behind the snowman and trying to imitate a boy's voice as she waved his stick arms. "Come on, Anna, give Olaf a nice big warm hug!" she called.

"Oh, Olaf!" Anna shrieked, throwing her arms around the snow child. "I've missed you so much!"

"And I've missed you, Anna," Elsa said in the same voice. "Would you like to dance?"

"Dance?" Anna raised her face, and looked at the princess, who was smiling back at her.

Elsa drew back her skirts, and tapped her foot on the paving around the fountain. To Anna's astonishment, frost quickly spread out from the princess's toe, covering the flagstones in a sheet of smooth ice. "Hold on tight to Olaf!" the princess called.

Puzzled, Anna did so, and then found herself being pushed back by the snowman as Elsa stood there, rivers of white mist flowing from her hands. The snowman, and Anna with it, slowly circled the fountain, turning around slowly as Anna's surprise was overtaken by joy, and she started laughing harder and harder as the two of them whirled faster and faster.

Finally she let go, spinning dizzily towards the grass. But Elsa aimed her hand and the young maid found herself falling face-first into a thick, soft snowbank. She tumbled over, still laughing, spluttering out flakes of snow as Elsa continued to make Olaf dance around the fountain.

"That was amazing!" she called. "Unbelievable!"

At Elsa's direction, Olaf came to a halt in front of the fountain, and then lifted up into the air, settling on the topmost bowl of the fountain in a heroic pose. Anna laughed as Elsa conjured up some more snow and threw herself down on it beside the other girl.

"There we go—Sir Olaf's Fountain!" she said, giggling.

"He's so noble!" Anna said. "Like a fairytale knight! I want to marry him!"

"Marry him? Isn't he your brother?" Elsa said. "If you married a knight, then you'd be Lady Anna," she quickly added, seeing Anna's face start to fall with the bad memories. "Pity I can't make you Lady Anna in real life. Hmm. Perhaps I should ask my father to do it."

"Oh, no, please don't!" Anna cried. "I couldn't be a lady!"

"I was only joking, don't worry," Elsa told her with a forced smile, annoyed at herself for forgetting Anna's circumstances twice in row. "Isn't it nice just lying back on the soft snow?" she asked, changing the subject to something neutral.

"It really is," Anna agreed with a long sigh, looking up at the clouds slowly drifting through the blue sky. "I never thought I'd feel so relaxed in my life."

"It's so peaceful…" Elsa said in a soft voice, lacing her fingers behind her head. Then she laughed softly. "Look at that cloud—it looks a bit like Olaf, don't you think?"

Anna grinned. "If his tummy and butt were swapped. That one up there looks a bit like a castle, don't you think?"

"A grand and glorious castle in the clouds," Elsa commented. "I wish I could live in my own castle, far above everyone, alone and free…."

"Me too," Anna said with a sigh.

Elsa glanced over at her. "We should make our own castle, and live there together. I'd like that. No more lessons, no more royal duties, no more fears about people finding out about my terrible secret…."

"That would be so nice," Anna said wistfully, letting herself dream an impossible dream for once in her life. "To be free of worry, of fear…."

"Just you and me…."

"Safe," Anna whispered.

There was a short but contented silence as both girls gazed up at the sky, thinking about castles in the air. Anna shivered briefly, the cold seeping through her dress. Then she sneezed.

Elsa looked over at her, and her eyes widened. "Anna! You're shivering!"

"I'm… I'm all right," Anna said. "Really."

"No, no, no, it's my fault, I'm to blame!" Elsa said standing up and reaching down her hand. "I forgot how cold the snow must feel to you! Anna, I'm so sorry! Come on! Get up!"

After a brief hesitation at touching her princess, Anna took Elsa's cold hand, and allowed the taller girl to pull her up.

"Anna, I'm… I'm so sorry," she cried. "Are you very cold and wet?"

"No, no, it's fine, I'm fine," Anna said. "I may not be a snow princess, but I'm used to the cold as well."

"But… that was because you had no choice," Elsa said softly. "You hated it."

Anna shook her head. "That was then—the past is in the past. Right now, I might be cold, but I'm having so much fun! This is so incredible! I never knew snow could be so wonderful! All my life it's been cold and cruel and hard, and I never realised how much happiness, how much excitement there could be with snow!"

"I'm just glad you're having fun," Elsa said softly, thinking about the first time she had seen Anna, as a still, silent shape buried under the cruel, cold snow of winter. Snow that she herself had encouraged to fall.

"Oh, yes! Such wonderful fun!" Anna said quickly, nodding. She looked over at the princess. "Are… are you?"

"I am, definitely," Elsa said, and sighed in contentment, gazing up at the snowman on the fountain. "It's so wonderful to be able to let go of all the fears that once controlled me, to just let it go, to be who I really am." She gave Anna a shy glance. "At least with one other person…."

Anna blinked. "Who?"

Elsa laughed. "Well, you. I mean, I hope. I hope I you can accept me for… for what I am."

"Of course I can!" Anna exclaimed. "You're my princess!"

The blonde girl suddenly looked very bashful. "I don't want to be your princess. I… I want to be your friend."

"My friend?" Anna gasped, her eyes wide, as Elsa's pale cheeks went bright pink. "Oh, that would be so amazing!"

"Friends, then?"

"Friends," Anna said, smiling as Elsa stole her fingers around the younger girl's hand. She felt their strange, unnatural coolness seeping into her, yet was filled with warmth as she thought about how perfect her new life was now. If every moment she had suffered, every tear she had shed, every blow she had endured was designed to bring her this, she thought, then she would gladly accept them all over again. To have a home, and a friend….

. . .

* * *

**KNOWTES: **

I've been very pleased how well my little explanatory notes have been received. Unfortunately(?), this chapter being largely fluff (fluffy snow!) means that there's not actually that much in the way of references this time. There isn't really much point in adding long digressions on the history of snowmen, for example. Especially when it's not clear anyway, since they've presumably been made for millennia...

Anna's surprise over Sven "talking" mirrors my own: the first time I heard it, I thought the movie was going to have talking animals, and I'm certainly glad they dodged that bullet. Of course it's a lot more likely for a cartoon animal to talk than a real animal…. Anna would not normally, of course, assume an animal can talk, but she's just found out that magic was real, after all….

Wesselton is apparently a real location in South Africa. No way is SA going to send anyone to an Arendelle coronation. The 'ton' suffix indicates a British placename ("town" of course), so I have decided that the Duke of Weselton is an English peer (later representing the British throne at the wedding). And cod was a major, major export from the west coast of Norway, where Arendelle is.

"Dumming" is Norwegian for "dummy," and "du svin!" means "you swine!" And no, not all men eat their own boogers. I mean seriously, why would anyone even want to? Oh, and the word "booger" dates back to 1866. So not too far off…. And "rhinotillexomania" is the scientific term for "picking your nose." Apparently, Kristoff might be onto something. Eating your boogers might help your immune system. University of Saskatchewan biochemist Scott Napper has conducted studies showing that there may be health benefits to booger munching. (From io9 dot com). Still not gonna try it….

That's enough snot talk, and 'snot enough on other topics. So on we go…. "Pretty please with sugar on top" dates from 1917, but since Anna isn't technically speaking English, I think we can be a little bit flexible.

The garden is based, in part, on the glimpses we get of it in the film, during the _For the First Time in Forever_ sequence. There isn't really much room for a large garden, so I've tried to make it a bit more interesting by creating one with lots of smaller areas, giving the impression of a larger one. The reference to "English" style means that it's not the formal parterres of France (think Versailles, for example), but designed to look like natural parkland in the style the English preferred. The French had amazing geometrical designs, symbolizing their mastery over nature, while the English liked an idealized nature, as typified by the famous "Capability" Brown (so-called as he was considered good at seeing the capabilities of an estate) who designed many of the most prominent gardens in Britain, like Blenheim Palace. I have no idea what was typical in Norway, but I'm assuming that they preferred the allegorical idealization of the rural landscape like the British. The site for Bygdø Royal Estate (the official summer residence of the King of Norway) notes how it started off Baroque but became Romantic (naturalistic) in the 19th century.

The comment about Elsa looking like her mother is inspired by the apparent fact that the models for both Elsa and Idun in the movie were the same. As an aside, I'm annoyed by all those people who have to moan about how similar Elsa and Anna (and the queen) look, on the grounds that Disney is making all its female characters fit some generic mould. They're _supposed_ to look alike, for Heaven's sake! They're sisters!

What might have been the last execution for witchcraft (in Europe at least—they're still ongoing in parts of Africa and India and other countries Elsa won't be travelling to) was in 1811, of Barbara Zdunk, in Poland. This is an awkward claim, as apparently witchcraft was not actually a crime then, so I have used the case of Anna Göldi, killed in 1782, though official allegations of witchcraft were avoided. Anna Schnidenwind was tried for actual witchcraft (a deal with the Devil) in Germany in 1751.

Again, apologies for the delay. In addition to Real Life work, I had some important chapters in my MVA fic to do, and while I knew the main scenes from this chapter, it was hard to find the right order for them, and to make them segue naturally. Anyway, hope you enjoyed the fluff, and things are going to be rather less happy soon….

[**Posted**: 24th August 2014]

[**Edited**: 27th Aug. Thanks to PascalDragon for noting that Elsa has a coronation, not a wedding... D'oh!] [And my story's passed 10,000 views, which while it may not be much compared to some here, is still very gratifying...]

[Edited: 16th Sept. Spelled "Weselton" wrong...]

[Edited: 25 Sept. Forgot that I had Elsa removing the snow in this chapter, and a reference to her *not* removing it in the next. D'oh again. So I have removed the reference in this chapter.

[Edited: 30 March 2015. Fixed some minor snafus]

.

**PS**: There is a graphically pornographic review left for the last chapter. I have reported it THREE TIMES to the FF authorities, who have done _nothing_ whatsoever. I have also blocked the poster, however, so this should, I hope, not happen again.  
Not that reporting it worked. Just skip over it...


	13. The Princess in the Mirror

**13\. The Princess in the Mirror**

[**Last time on ****_Living Flower_**: Lots of fluffy snow and fluffy bonding as Elsa showed Anna how wonderful and exciting snow can be. Elsa officially declared Anna to be her friend.]

* * *

"Elsa?"

The young princess looked up from her book, gazing at her mother with an anxious expression. She knew that tone of voice, and it was one that generally did not bode well for her. "Yes, Mother?"

"A word, if you please," the queen said.

Elsa sighed. "What it is _this_ time?"

"Don't take that tone with me, young lady. You know very well what I want to say to you."

"I do?" Elsa asked, genuinely surprised. "What have I done?"

"We shall discuss it in my private study."

Reluctantly, Elsa stood and followed the queen from the library to her study, where she stood there nervously, gazing out the window at the treetops and the view to the mountains that rose steeply from the fjords, their distant peaks hidden behind clouds.

"Sit down, Elsa, and do stop fidgeting with your gloves."

Elsa glanced down at her hands, and laid them carefully in her lap as she sat down. "What is it, Mother?"

"Elsa, what were you doing in our private garden on Sunday?"

"The… the private garden?" Elsa stammered. How did her mother find out? No one had seen them—she was certain of it. Then she mentally hit herself. The snow! She had completely forgotten to remove the snow after they left. Anna had been getting cold, she had taken the other girl back to the stables and got her some hot chocolate, the first the redhead had ever had. Her reaction had been so endearing, so pure. Elsa loved that purity, that innocence—it was something her own life was sorely lacking…. And it meant she had completely forgotten to remove the snow, cause it to fly over the wall and disappear into the fjord.

"I was… playing," she eventually said in a low voice. "That's what the garden's for, isn't it?"

"Elsa, the odd swirl of snow is one thing, but this was like… like a miniature blizzard had struck. Drifts up to my waist! Really, there are… limits to what can be, er, accepted." The queen sighed, and ran her hand through her hair, smoothing a stray strand or two back into her tight bun. "I know it's tempting, dear," she said. "I know you have these urges. I understand. It can be hard to control. Especially for a girl who is just starting to grow into a woman. I just wish you could try and… suppress them better."

"I do!" Elsa shot back. "I do! I never let anyone see!"

"Except the gardener the next morning," the queen replied. "The staff may be aware of your, uh, condition, but nevertheless, some degree of circumspection is required. We do not need to constantly remind them that you are not… normal. After all, it is not winter any more: we cannot pretend any snow appearing is natural, especially a… what was it? A snowman on a fountain?"

"Olaf," Elsa said quickly.

"What's Olaf?"

"That's his name," the princess muttered. "He's Sir Olaf the Strong."

Her mother rolled her eyes. "His name is not the issue. What is the issue is that you need to resist the desire to… to…"

"To be who I am?" Elsa asked. "Because I'm not normal, am I? What am I? A witch? A changeling left by the trolls, who replaced the real princess with this freak of nature, this monster?"

"Don't be silly, Elsa!" her mother snapped. "You're not a monster, you're just… you're just… different. And you need to hide that. Conceal it. Control it. Or else you know what could happen…."

Elsa dropped her eyes, and stared at the rug, biting the inside of her lip. "I do. I will try harder, Mother," she said quietly, feeling her fingers chill. "You won't see any more snow around until winter, I promise."

"That's all we ask, my dear," the queen said, smiling for the first time. "And on a more positive note, the Duke of Weselton will be arriving next week."

Elsa's eyebrows shot up. "That's a positive note?"

"It is if it leads to increased cod orders. Your father and the Storting ministers have been negotiating for years for increased access to British markets. Their trawling industry in the North Sea has been expanding, thanks to their new, powerful fleet, and we are in danger of being squeezed out of the market. So it is absolutely imperative that the Duke's visit to Arendelle go smoothly, and without incident. Of any kind." The queen looked hard at Elsa as she said that, and the young princess swallowed.

"Understood," Elsa said, biting her lip.

"Therefore I will ask you to do what you can as well, young lady. You are growing up, and it is high time you shared some of my hostessing duties, to prepare you for the day you become queen."

Elsa nodded. "Of course. Whatever you wish."

"And I shall have to ask you to sacrifice your maid."

"You what?" Elsa blurted out, nearly knocking over low table beside her.

"Don't be so inelegant, Elsa," her mother said, raising an eyebrow. "I merely meant we will need to reassign Aslaug while the Duke is here."

"Why?"

"The Duke will only be bringing his valet to assist him," the queen said patiently. "He will need someone else to take care of his room and other matters."

"Then what am I supposed to do? Dress myself?"

"We will assign another maid," the queen said. "Just temporarily."

"Who is it this time, in the never-ending carousel of my maids?" Elsa said with a sigh. "The head housemaid? What was her name? Elin? Erin?"

The queen shook her head, her cheeks flushed. "I've already discussed this with Mrs Gerdason, and indeed I suggested Erin, but…."

Elsa looked at her mother, who was looking uncharacteristically abashed.

"But what?"

"Elsa, my darling…. She… she humbly asked not to be reassigned from her current position."

"What do you mean? It's a promotion."

"Well, to be honest, she… er… apparently told Mrs Gerdason that she would prefer to resign than serve you."

Elsa felt a sudden flush of rage. "How dare she! Who does she think she is?"

"Calm down, Elsa," her mother said, her voice prim and measured. "A princess must always remain calm and composed. We have few enough servants as it is, due to your… condition. And we can scarcely afford to lose more."

Elsa felt the same painful twinge in her heart she did each time her mother mentioned the problems her powers caused. Problems she never intended, and powers she never asked for. Yet her mother sometimes seemed to act as if she were deliberately causing them, just because she could.

"So what now? Are you going to go down the ranks of maids until you find one who's willing to risk serving the Ice Princess?" Elsa said, her voice dripping with contempt. Then her heart skipped and soared as she suddenly realized exactly what she was saying. She smiled sweetly at her mother, hope flooding her.

"In that case, give me Anna," she said. "If it's just for a few days, you can't object, can you?"

"Oh dear. That scullery maid? Do we really have to go straight to the bottom of the barrel?"

"I know for a fact that she would not refuse," Elsa pointed out.

The queen raised an elegantly-trimmed eyebrow. "And just how are you so certain?"

"She… she owes me her life, and… and she doesn't yet know about… about this," the young girl lied, holding up her gloved hands.

"But Elsa, what if you have an… accident during the week? What then?"

"I won't," Elsa said. "I know I won't. Not with her. She'll be safe, I promise."

The queen shook her head. "Oh, Elsa, why are you so concerned about her?"

"Why shouldn't I be?" Elsa said, pouting. "She's my—" She quickly broke off, unwilling to admit the extent of her closeness with the maid.

"Your what?"

"My… my, er, responsibility," Elsa said. "It's only a few days, a week at most, so I could cope."

The queen sighed. "Oh, very well. On your head be it. But if anything happens before the week is out, you'll have to cope without a maid at all. Are you prepared for that?"

Elsa smiled with genuine happiness. "Don't worry. I promise you, nothing will go wrong. Nothing at all."

* * *

"Everybody look lively now!" Kaisson barked before breakfast the next week. "An important foreign guest will be visiting their majesties soon, and we need to make the castle look spick and span! You will all be given extra duties until he arrives."

"With extra pay?" Hans drawled, standing by the wall with a cigarette dangling from his lips.

Kaisson glared at him. "You are paid quite well enough to do whatever Their Majesties require. Now, I shall take charge of the footmen and male staff, and the under-butler will provide them with their added duties. Mrs Gerdason will do the same for the maids. I'm sorry, Mrs Gerdason, that there are so many more maids than footmen: it is added work for you."

"Oh, nothing I can't handle, Mr Kaisson," Gerdason said. "Girls, you'll be given your new duties by the end of the day."

"And remember," Kaisson rumbled, "this is a very important guest. Everyone is to be on their best behaviour, or they might just find themselves losing their position!"

There was a rather ragged chorus of acknowledgement, then Gerdason looked over at Aslaug. "You shall be attending Their Majesties' guest. Report to my office after breakfast for instructions."

"Lucky," someone whispered. Anna, standing at the back in her usual position for the morning announcements, didn't catch who, though.

"Yeah, lucky she's survived the Ice Princess this long," someone else whispered back.

"Who's the poor girl replacing her?"

"Not Erin?"

"No—in fact, I heard she threatened to quit if they made her!"

"So would I! What if the witch got angry, and whoosh!"

"Silence down the end there!" Kaisson bellowed. "I will not have gossip in my Servants' Hall! It is a bad habit to get into!"

"I quite agree," Gerdason added. "Stop it at once, girls!"

Anna wished she could have told them what the princess was really like, that her powers were for good, for beauty and art and dreams, not something evil to be feared. They didn't understand. Elsa had told her, the previous Sunday, that people fear what they didn't understand. At any rate, there was nothing she could do to make them change their minds.

Not that she had time to think about the issue much, as she was rushed off her feet after Kaisson's morning announcements ensuring that everyone had their tea, milk, fish, and other foods, as well as collecting all the dirty plates and taking them back to the scullery. Then at last she could have her own breakfast. As she ate, she found herself wondering who the important guest was. Some handsome prince from a far-off land? Or perhaps the princess's cousin from Corona, wherever that was? At any rate, it was something new. And in this quiet, closed-off castle, that alone made it exciting. Even with all the extra work she would have to do….

* * *

"Hi, Elsa!" Anna called, slipping into the stable office on Sunday afternoon, breathing the familiar, comforting scent of straw and animals.

The princess looked up, her eyes sparkling. "Anna!" she cried, jumping up. She almost hugged the other girl, but stopped just in time, standing before the startled redhead with a huge smile. "Wonderful news!"

"What?" Anna gasped. "What is it?"

"The Duke of Weselton's coming to Arendelle!"

Anna blinked. Was she missing something? "Uh… the old cod guy you mentioned? Why?"

"Something about negotiating fishing quotas. All very dull, of course, but the sort of thing Mother says I need to learn, if I'm going to be queen one day. Oh, but Anna! He's going to need a maid!"

The redhead swallowed. "Uh, what do you mean? You mean me? You want me to serve him?"

"No, no, it'll be Aslaug! Isn't that wonderful?"

"Er, I suppose…." Anna looked up at the taller girl, feeling very confused indeed.

"It is! Because Mother's said you can be my lady's maid in her place! My personal maid, for a week!"

Anna's eyes opened wide. She could be Elsa's maid? Be with the princess, and for a whole week? "That's… that's fantastic! Amazing!" she cried. "When?"

"The end of the month," Elsa said. Her huge smile vanished, replaced by an expression of concern. "Which means we don't have much time to get you to be that perfect maid!"

"Well, it's only for a week," Anna noted pragmatically. "Even I probably couldn't screw up in just a week."

"Yes, but if you do well, then I might be able to persuade Mother to let you stay on, permanently!" Elsa said. "Would you like that?"

Anna felt her heart might stop. To go from a beggar girl selling matches on the street to personal lady's maid to the princess and future queen? It was a dream come true! She nodded so fast she thought her head would fall off. "It would be so wonderfully perfect!" she cried. "Just… just perfect!"

"I know! We could hang out all day, every day," Elsa said. "Wouldn't that be fun?"

"Could we play with the… the magic?" Anna asked shyly.

Elsa suddenly stopped, frowning. "Ah. That might be hard. Mother found out about, er, last week."

Anna's heart shot into her mouth. "She didn't know it was us, did she?"

"Well, she didn't know you were there, no. But she did suspect I was. The evidence it was me was… compelling," the princess said, giving Anna a wry smile. Then she sighed. "Mother was not terribly happy."

"Oh, I'm sorry! Did you get in much trouble? I hope you didn't! Please, tell me you didn't!"

"No, not more than usual, don't worry," Elsa said with a gentle smile. "That is, she did at least appreciate that I didn't stain an expensive silk rug or ruin the paintwork this time. Anyway, we have a lot of work to get through, so there won't be time for magic!"

"None at all…?" Anna asked, her lips wobbling.

Elsa gave her a warm smile. "Well… just a very little bit," she said, carefully removing a glove as Anna's face split in two with a huge grin.

* * *

"Say, what'cha writin'?"

Anna spun around at the sound of Hilde's voice as the older girl entered their room, and quickly covered up her paper. "Nothing," she said.

"A love letter?" Hilde asked, grinning. "I bet it's a love letter, to that stable boy you keep sneaking out to see."

"'Tis not!" Anna retorted.

"Bet it is," Hilde said, smirking. "Just this morning, I saw you and him talking together. What were you talking about? Your wedding? Where's the honeymoon? How many kids are you gonna have? Will they smell like horse poo like their pappa?"

"They will not! I mean he does not! I mean we will not!" Anna shot back. "He is not my boyfriend or anything. He just… he was, uh, just telling me about… stuff. Reindeer stuff."

Hilde shrugged. "Whatever. I don't really care. Got better things to do than worry about your love life." She slipped a paper-wrapped package out from under her pinny and opened it.

"What's that?" Anna asked.

"Nothing," Hilde said with studied casualness as she popped something quickly into her mouth with evident relish.

"Fine, be that way," Anna snapped. "I'm too busy to play games."

"Busy with what?" Hilde asked casually.

"Uh, just… things," Anna said quickly. "I'm… I'm just practicing my penmanship." She had actually been trying to write a fairy tale, about a poor orphan girl who married a handsome prince, and dreaded what Hilde would say if she found out. She had also been trying to imitate the princess's elegantly flowing letters, but hers never seemed to come out quite as nicely. They were blocky, awkward; crude imitations of the real thing.

"Your what?" Hilde laughed. "Penmanship? You still got delusions of grandeur?"

Anna glared at her. "Well, if you're aiming for housekeeper, why can't I aim for something as well? And how would you ever be a respectable housekeeper if you can't write good… well, I mean?"

"Plenty of time to worry about that later," Hilde said, lying back on her bed with her arms behind her head. "Hey, have you heard who's coming? The Duke of Weasel Town, from Enger-land."

"Weselton," Anna said. "I know. He's coming to talk about cod quotas."

Hilde snorted. "How the devil do you know that? Who told you?"

"I… uh, I think I overheard Mr Kaisson mention it," Anna said, quickly covering up her lapse.

"Well, whatever he's here for, it's going to mean a lot more work," Hilde said. "And guess who gets to do all of it? We do. And guess who gets to have all the fun? 'Er and her lot upstairs, that's who."

"Huh? They're downstairs," Anna said, pointing towards the floor.

"Upstairs from the Servants' Hall, silly. Sometimes you really make me laugh. Here, have some pepperkaker."

"Gosh, thank you. Where'd you get that?" Anna asked, taking a piece.

Hilde shrugged. "Nicked it from the kitchens, of course. They won't miss it."

"You stole it?"

"'Course I did. Don't tell me you're going to get all moral about this?"

Anna popped her piece into her mouth with a grin. "Nope, not me. Not about something that tastes this good!"

Hilde laughed. "There's hope for you yet, then!"

* * *

"Anna, please follow me."

Anna looked up from scrubbing the kitchen floor, seeing the housekeeper standing over her. "Of course, Ma'am," she said, standing up quickly and wiping her hands on her apron as she followed Gerdason to her office.

"First of all, let me say how pleased I am with how hard you have been working," Gerdason said, sitting down at her desk, Anna standing before it.

"Uh, thank you, Ma'am," Anna said, biting her lip nervously.

"You are aware that the His Grace the Duke of Weselton is arriving in Arendelle soon, I take it?"

Anna nodded. "Yes'm."

"Aslaug, the princess's lady's maid, will be assigned to the duke for his stay."

"I understand, Ma'am," Anna said.

There was a short silence, then the housekeeper looked up at Anna and shook her head, sighing. "This is madness," she muttered. "Utter, utter madness." She straightened up, and looked at the girl. "Anna, you will be serving as Her Highness's lady's maid while the duke is here."

Anna swallowed, and her heart seemed to stop. While she already knew, of course, hearing it from the housekeeper… that made it official. Officially official. "Thank you, ma'am. Thank you very much."

"Anna, I said before, you're a good worker… but… you will be attending the princess. You will be with her for much of the day. This is a huge, huge responsibility. I hope you're aware of that."

Anna nodded. "I am, Ma'am. She won't be disappointed."

"Considering she asked for you directly, probably not," Gerdason said, looking Anna in the eye. She looked as if she were about to say something else, and then stopped, shaking her head slightly. "At any rate, you are a hard worker, and a quick learner, and this won't be for long. Remember to always do what you are told, and don't make her cross with you. Ever."

"No, Ma'am," Anna replied, shaking her head. "I would never!"

"For your sake, and hers, I hope so. Now hurry on up to Her Highness's room: she no doubt wishes to discuss her needs before you start."

"Yes, Ma'am! Thank you Ma'am!" Anna burst out, and was out of the door like a slingshot the moment she was dismissed.

The housekeeper looked after her, and sighed. "Oh, that poor girl..."

* * *

Elsa stood by her window, looking out at the scenery. High mountains surrounded the valley and fjord, hemming everything in, making her horizons close, almost oppressive. But the princess had always drawn comfort from that: she liked small spaces, enclosed, protected areas. They made her feel safe. Was she being completely selfish, forcing Anna to serve her? It was one thing to interact with her for a few hours each week—quite another to be with her much of the day. Despite what her mother had said, Elsa knew the real reason her maid Astrid had left. Fear. That was the reason few maids stayed with her for long. Because sooner or later, and increasingly, these days, sooner, she would make a mistake, lose control for a moment, and the ice would emerge. Sometimes with terrifying consequences. It must never happen with Anna, the princess told herself. Never.

Slowly, she placed her bare hands in the sill, willing nothing to happen. And for a brief moment, nothing did. Elsa breathed a sigh of relief, and then noticed frost spreading out from under her palms. A panicked jolt of fear shot through her, and the ice suddenly spread, creeping up the windowpanes. Elsa snatched her hands away just as a knock sounded on the door.

"E—enter," she called, quickly putting her gloves back on.

The door opened, and Anna slipped in, a huge smile on her face as she gave a quick curtsey.

"Anna!" Elsa called, her fears forgotten. "They told you?"

Anna nodded. "Mrs Gerdason told me to come see you," she said breathlessly. It was clear to Elsa that the younger girl had been running in her excitement. "Isn't this amazing?"

"Finally I get a maid who actually likes me," Elsa said. "So tell me—what do you think?" she asked, giving an elegant pirouette.

"Uh, what about?" Anna asked.

"This," the princess told her, gesturing to her elegantly embroidered gown.

"Uh, it's very… purple," Anna suggested.

Elsa laughed. "It certainly is!"

"What is it for?"

"For when the Duke comes. I have to choose something to wear for the welcoming reception next week."

"Wow, a reception! That sounds like such fun!"

"No. No, it really isn't," Elsa said, going back to the window and gazing out. She wiped her glove along some of the remaining ice. "It's not remotely fun." She turned and looked back at Anna, seeing the concerned expression on her friend's face. "Imagine sitting through the dullest, most tedious lesson, or church service, or anything, you've ever been to, and then imagine that you can't read, or yawn, or fidget, or even look bored, because everyone in the room is looking at you, and every move you make reflects on your family and the entire kingdom." She sighed. "Sometimes I wish I could just be a simple maid like you, and not have to worry about people always, always looking at me."

"I'm used to it," Anna said quietly. "Nobody ever, ever pays attention to a beggar girl on the streets. Sometimes I wish people would actually notice me."

"Do you suppose anyone would notice if we swapped places for the reception?"

Anna laughed. "Considering you're several inches taller than me, your hair is blonde and mine is red, and your skin is so much paler… yes, they might!"

"But if you weren't dressed in a maid's uniform? If you were in a nice dress?"

"I... er…. No, a maid's uniform is better for me, for what I am, Highness."

"Elsa," the princess said. "Remember, when we're just girls together, it's Elsa."

"But… that's dressed as maids, in the stables…" Anna said, confused. "So no one will realise you're there."

"And now it's here as well," Elsa declared. "Just… don't do it front of anyone else. They wouldn't understand." She sighed. "Sometimes I think the servants and councillors are more concerned about my rank than I am. I just want to be me, but I never can."

"I don't follow… Elsa," Anna ventured.

"Well, look at this dress, for example," Elsa said, gesturing to herself.

"It's gorgeous," Anna said. "All your clothes are."

"It's uncomfortable," Elsa told her. "You might think my clothes look gorgeous, but in some of them, I can hardly breathe. A maid's outfit's so much more comfortable. I like wearing it; it's so freeing."

"Couldn't you just wear plainer clothes? I mean, aren't you the princess? Can't you wear what you like?"

"I wish I could," Elsa said. "But all my clothes are provided for me. I don't get to choose them. I never have. I have to wear all these tight, uncomfortable, stiff formal clothes because I'm a… well, because of who my parents are, and what I have to do." She looked over at the other girl, suddenly feeling almost embarrassed about mentioning her rank too much in front of Anna. "Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be able to buy my own clothes, wear what I wanted. Like everyone else can."

"Well, I can't," Anna said, gesturing to her own maid's uniform. "I have to wear this."

"But before you came here? You could wear what you wanted then, surely?"

Anna shook her head. "You know what they say: beggars can't be choosers. I had to wear clothes we found, that other people threw away, or simple hand-made clothes. They were cheap, and didn't last long. So my skirts were always covered in patches. My grandmother would sew them on. Her eyes were not so good, so I would have to thread the needles for her." Anna sighed. "I remember watching her at night, trying to mend my clothes, with only a guttering candle stub to see by…."

She broke off suddenly, and Elsa swallowed hard. She hadn't meant to dredge up unpleasant old memories at all. She looked at Anna for a moment, tapping her finger against her lips, which then broke into a sly grin. Then she quickly unlaced and removed her dress, standing there in just her thin silk shift as Anna's eyes opened wide in surprise.

"Are we having another dressing lesson?" she asked.

"We are," Elsa said, smiling. "But different. Put this on."

Anna blinked. She couldn't have heard right. "Put… put this away, you mean?"

"No, no. Put it on!" Elsa said. "I want to see what you look like dressed like me!"

"Yikes…." Anna swallowed hard, fingering the fine stitching, the smooth, soft material. Then she looked back at the princess, who nodded.

"Come on! You've seen me dressed like a maid, now I want to see you dressed as a princess!"

Anna stared at her for a few seconds, then her face split into a huge smile. Giggling, she quickly stripped her maid's uniform off, then slipped the gorgeous purple dress over her head, somehow finding the armholes, and in a few moments had it hanging loosely from her.

"Hold still," Elsa instructed as she quickly laced up the stays, and adjusted the sleeves. "There!"

Anna gave a deep curtsey. "How… how do I look, Highness?"

Elsa swallowed hard. Her eyes opened wide, and her heart caught in her throat as she looked at the beautiful girl who just a few months ago had been a ragged beggar in the streets. "You look… amazing," she breathed, unable to believe the change. "The perfect princess… so elegant, so beautiful…."

Anna blushed under her gaze, averting her eyes. "Not nearly as beautiful as you," she said softly.

Unable to take her eyes off the vivacious redhead, Elsa moved to her full-length mirror, shifting it to reflect Anna. The maid's eyes widened, and Elsa could hear her gasp. Anna slowly approached the mirror, touching the glass as if she couldn't believe it was really her reflection in there. Then she turned to Elsa, a shy smile on her freckled face. "It's so beautiful," she said softly, smiling.

Elsa shook her head. "_You're_ so beautiful. You really could be a princess, you know."

Anna blushed bright red. "No, not me. I'm just a maid. I could never feel comfortable in something like this." She turned, and looked at the princess, shaking her head. "Honest, I can't be wearing this! It's not right!"

Elsa gave Anna a lopsided smile. "Yes, you're right, that won't do. That won't do at all. It's totally wrong for you!"

"Uh, yes, if you say so…" Anna said, puzzled at the sudden agreement.

"Definitely. Take it off, immediately," Elsa ordered. "And…" she added, vanishing into her dressing room for a moment. She was out immediately, carrying a red-gold gown embroidered with delicate green and blue birds and flowers. "…put this one on instead!"

"My God, it's so… so… amazing!" Anna stammered, feeling overwhelmed.

"Come on!" Elsa told her, unlacing the other girl's dress. She took that off and laid it on the bed, then helped Anna get into the golden one. "There, see! Wonderful!"

The young maid's eyes bugged open wide as she caught sight of her reflection in the full-length glass.

"It's so wonderful!" she gasped. "Even nicer than the first one!"

"Wait 'till you see this one!" Elsa told her, dashing back into the dressing room. This time she was in there for a bit longer, and when she came out, Anna gasped. The princess was wearing a long off-the- shoulder gown in many shades of blue that sparkled and shimmered in the light. The cerulean bodice was made up of thousands of tiny metallic plates, and the translucent, powder-blue sleeves sparkled with tiny crystals. Behind it floated a long train, fine and soft as spider silk.

"Oh my God!" Anna squealed. "That's so utterly gorgeous!"

"This is my favourite," Elsa told her with a smile. "It makes me look quite adult, don't you think?"

"You look… just like a queen," Anna breathed. "The perfect queen…."

"So now it's your turn," Elsa said, gesturing to the dressing room. "Go on! Pick any you like, and we'll see what you look like in it!"

Glancing briefly back at the princess for reassurance, Anna carefully headed into the dressing room, and caught her breath. Such an array of colours and fabrics! Every colour she could imagine, and more besides! Patterns, cuts, shapes, decorations all around! She had never imagined there could be so many! Even the fine dresses of the wealthy ladies she had seen in town were nothing compared to the selection the princess had. Her mind reeling, Anna walked slowly along the row of dresses, marvelling.

"Which do you like?" Elsa asked, her face slightly pink.

"I… I don't know," Anna breathed. "They're all so very wonderful! How do you ever choose what to wear?"

Elsa gave a light laugh. "Actually I don't wear most of these. A lot of these are gifts, so I couldn't refuse them, but I usually wear plainer clothes, if I can. I prefer our simpler native Arendelle styles to these."

"Which styles are these?"

"French, English, Prussian," Elsa explained. "Quite a few from Corona, of course. Oh, Anna, try this one! I think this will look perfect on you!" she added, holding out a gown made of silver brocade, festooned with ruby flowers.

Anna gasped. "Oh, no, no," she said, shaking her head. "It's too much for me! Much too much! How about… this one?" she asked, selecting a plainer green one.

Elsa smiled. "You have a good eye. It's one of my favourites. It's probably too small for me now, but it might fit you quite nicely. Go ahead, try it!"

With Elsa's help, Anna got out of the red-gold gown, and a few minutes later found herself wearing a long olive-green dress decorated with stylized flowers and leaves, and topped by a sleeveless black velvet bodice with a delicately embroidered red flower on the front, with wide gauzy blue-green straps around her upper arms.

"It's so lovely," Anna said, twisting around to see as much of it as possible. "So wonderful."

"It fits you perfectly," Elsa told her. "Do you want it? I could give it to you, if you liked."

"Thank you ever so much," Anna said, and sighed. "I do so wish you could."

Elsa looked puzzled. "What do you mean, you wish I could? It's my dress. I can give it to whomever I please. Don't you want it?"

"Oh, of course I do," Anna said. "I wish I could have it. I really do." She fingered the material of the skirt, feeling the smoothness of the fabric. "But when could I wear it? Where could I keep it? What would people say?" Anna swallowed, telling herself not to be too disappointed. "No… it would never do for me. I'm… just a maid."

The princess's face fell. "I'm sorry, Anna. I forgot. Please… forgive me for trying to force it on you."

Anna quickly shook her head. "Oh no, no, please. I shouldn't ever have mentioned it. Might we pretend it never happened? Please?"

Elsa smiled. "Of course! We're just two friends, playing dress-up." She glanced at Anna's dress again. "And if you're going to play in that dress, you'll need these," she added, opening a narrow door.

Anna gasped. Inside were row upon row of small open compartments, each holding a single pair of shoes. The young maid had never seen any quite so gorgeous. Of all the colours of the rainbow, they were made of silk and leather and jewels and ribbons, some with high heels, some with low, some lacy open-toed ones, the others fully enclosed. Towards the bottom were long boots, fur-lined for winter, or embossed and embroidered leather for summer.

"Are there any you like?" Elsa asked.

"So many…" Anna breathed, thinking back to the single well-worn, tatty pair of shoes she had owned, which were not even a pair by the time she had nearly died, that night back in the snow. She was not even sure what colour hers had been originally. She took a deep breath, trying to push the bad memories out of her mind and focus on the wonderful sights in front of her.

"Here, these might fit," Elsa was saying, holding out a pair of golden closed-toe sandals with high heels. "These are a bit small for me now."

Anna took them in a daze, marvelling at the workmanship, the details of the fine stitching, the softness of the leather. They were hand-made, of course, as were all shoes, even her old cast-offs, but these were made so much more exquisitely, it seemed a shame to get them dirty by walking on roads, or wear them down on cobbles. This was an elegant court shoe, not one for the mud and muck that had always, ever since she could remember, been a part of Anna's life.

"Try them on," Elsa urged, breaking in on her thoughts. "Go ahead!"

Anna bent down and slipped them on, hoping her feet weren't too dirty. The shoes felt so light and delicate, it was almost like she was barefoot.

"Come on, out to the mirror!" Elsa called, dashing out. Laughing, Anna followed her back to the bedroom.

Suddenly a gentle rapping sounded at the door. "Elsa?" called a voice.

The princess whirled as her door was opened. "Mother!" she gasped, her heart thumping. "What… what do you wish?"

"Have you selected—" The queen broke off as she caught sight of Anna in the green gown. "I beg your pardon, my lady. Elsa, you did not tell me you had a guest. Welcome, Lady…?"

Anna stood there, petrified, as the queen entered the room. At the last second, she quickly curtseyed, then stood with her eyes cast down. "Y…y…your Majesty…" she stammered, not sure what to say.

The queen looked at Elsa, confused. "Darling, who is your new friend? I do not recognise her. Is she Count Stamsund's daughter? I did not think Inga was that tall yet…."

"It is not Inga, Mother," Elsa said, barely repressing a cheeky smile. "Don't you recognise her? It's Anna!"

"Anna…?" the queen asked, looking puzzled. Then her eyes opened wide in understanding. "Anna! The scullery maid? What is the meaning of this? What exactly is going on here, Elsa? Explain," she demanded, her voice chilly.

"Uh, that is…" Elsa stammered, wondering what to say. "I…."

"Begging your pardon, Your Majesty," Anna interjected. "Her Highness requested that I model some gowns, to help her select the one she intends to wear to the duke's reception."

"Yes, that's right," Elsa quickly added. "I really cannot get a good idea of how something drapes just by looking in a mirror. Anna, do turn around please, and let me see the back."

She gave Anna a quick smile of thanks, grateful that the redhead was so quick at coming up with excuses. She herself hated being put on the spot, having to think on her feet. The princess far preferred to plan in advance, study the relevant facts, and calculate all possible outcomes before making a decision.

"Why the sudden interest in fashion?" the queen asked as Anna slowly turned around.

"Well… uh... it's an important visit," Elsa said. "You said so yourself. I mean, that is, we must impress the duke, and you wanted me to share hostessing duties, did you not?"

"I did," the queen said with a slight nod. "I just hope the maid doesn't damage that expensive dress, or get it dirty. She's just a scullery maid after all—she may not even have washed properly. Come here, girl, and let me see your hands," she added, gesturing to Anna.

"Yes, Your Majesty," Anna said, walking over to the queen and giving her a brief curtsey, then holding out her hands.

But the queen ignored them. She frowned, staring into the redhead's face for several seconds, as if searching for something. Anna had never seen the queen so close before. Elsa's mother had a reassuring familiarity to her, her face filled with a gentle warmth that made Anna think of her grandmother, but one that was tinged with a sadness, the shadows of a distant sorrow that only grew stronger as the queen examined Anna's face. Yet despite the queen's gentle mien, there was also a certain cold, reserved regality, the unmistakable bearing of a monarch, that made the young maid's heart thump with nerves.

Several times the queen seemed about to say something, but finally just nodded. "Thank you… Anna. Yes, you do clean up well…" she said, her voice distant. She took a deep breath and averted her eyes from the maid, looking over at her daughter. "Elsa, once you've finished selecting your gown, your father wishes to see you in his study. He needs to teach you more about our trade with England. Have you read through the books he gave you last night?"

"Yes, Mother," Elsa said, indicating several thick volumes on her desk, one of which was open, and all of which were stuffed with numerous coloured paper slips, with notes written on them in the princess's elegant hand.

"Good. It's important that you understand the background to these negotiations."

"I know, Mother."

"Very well, I shall leave you. Don't be too long—your father's a busy man."

"No, Mother," Elsa said, she and Anna both curtseying, though to different depths, as the queen left the room in a swirl of silk. One they were alone again, she looked over at Anna and giggled. "Wasn't that amazing? She thought you were nobility!"

Anna shook her head. "Not for long, really. I mean, I couldn't try and fool her like you did with Mr Kaisson."

"Still… I'd like to try it one day," Elsa said with a smirk. "Maybe not with my mother, as she knows who you look like, but with someone, a stranger." Her eyes widened, and she gave a light laugh. "The duke! We can pretend to the duke!"

Anna's heart skipped a beat. "But… but won't he see me for an imposter the moment I say something?"

Elsa shook her head. "That's the best part! He doesn't speak any Norwegian. I'll do all the interpreting, so he won't ever hear your accent! And anyway, you speak so much better now than when you first came." Elsa stopped, and looked at the redhead, resplendent in her gorgeous green gown. "My mother was right, you know," she added. "You really do clean up beautifully." She paused again, and gazed over at the younger girl. "Come over here, please, Anna."

Anna trotted over to Elsa, awkwardly because of the unaccustomed skirts, and stood beside the princess.

"See?" Elsa asked, gesturing towards the large mirror, which reflected both of them.

Anna looked more closely at her reflection, trying to see herself as a stranger might, as the duke might. I'm not sure…" she said. "I mean, you look like a princess, and I look like… like a maid in a fancy dress."

Elsa shook her head. "You really don't, you know. You look just like a real princess. No different to me. What do you think—we could be Princess Elsa and Princess Anna!"

Anna's heart skipped a beat as she allowed herself to indulge the fantasy for a few seconds before reality came crashing back, as it always did. She gazed at the two girls in the mirror, wishing she could somehow pass through the mirror and be the girl she saw there, the beautiful young redheaded princess in the elegant green gown. Who was best friends with the taller princess in the stunning blue gown. Those two girls in the mirror, they were friends, equals. That was the fantasy, a fantasy she sometimes allowed herself the luxury of almost believing.

But no—fantasies were dangerous for people like her. She had learned long ago that she dare not dream of better things. "I'm… not a princess—I could never be like you," she said quietly. "I'm just a maid. I daren't ask more than that."

"Oh, don't be like that, Anna." Elsa said. "Maybe you're not a princess, but we can still be friends," she added, reaching out and holding Anna's hand, her soft silk glove cool against the redhead's warm skin.

Anna smiled at Elsa's reflection, her cheeks going pink. "That would be so nice," she said.

"Then it's settled," Elsa said happily. "Not maids, not princesses—just two friends." She looked more carefully at their reflections. "You know, with you dressed like that, we really do look pretty similar."

"Well, I suppose we sort of look a bit alike," Anna allowed. "Especially the noses. But the rest is really different. Like our hair. Yours is such a lovely blonde."

"That's because I'm a…. Because of what I am, I think," Elsa said. "The ice power. I mean. At least, that's what Father says. Mother and Father both have darker hair than I do. Mother's is dark brown, and… I think Father's is about your shade, actually." Elsa smiled, her eyes twinkling. "So in fact if I did have a sister, she might even have hair your colour."

Anna fingered her hair, running her hand along her plaits, wondering what it would be like to have a big sister like Elsa. It would be wonderful, she was sure. But having her as a friend was almost as good.

"I've never had a sister," Anna said. "Only a brother, and he… he died."

"I've never had either. I am the last of my line," Elsa said with a gentle sigh. "It's just me, all alone. Always alone…."

Anna gave the princess's hand a gentle squeeze. "Don't you ever wish you had a sister, or a brother?"

There was a brief pause, then Elsa nodded. "But I know why I don't," she added, her voice barely audible. She held up a gloved hand, looking at it as her eyes brimmed with unshed tears. "They never admitted it, but I know. After… what happened with me… they don't dare risk giving birth to another… witch, another monster."

"Oh, you're not a witch! You're not a monster!" Anna cried, horrified that the princess could see herself as such. "I wish I could show you that, show you how much people love you!"

Elsa shook her head. "They don't. They can't. And I hope you never learn why," she said. "I… I couldn't bear it if you… if you were afraid of me. All my other friends were. When I was very young, I learned that they couldn't do what I can do, and I learned how much I could hurt them. My parents are right: it's safer that I stay in here, concealed, alone."

"You're not a monster," Anna repeated. She swallowed, seeing Elsa look at her with such sadness, such loneliness in her eyes. What must it have been like, the maid wondered, to grow up so isolated, so in fear? While Anna had been poor, and had had to work hard, there had never been any shortage of companionship, people to laugh and talk with. In fact, in the poorer areas of Arendelle, it was finding a place to be alone, to find that precious, quiet solitude, that was hard. But Elsa had always been alone, isolated, cut off from almost all contact with people her age. Before Anna knew what she was doing, before she realized what a liberty she was taking with her princess, she had moved closer, and was hugging the other girl tightly.

"And you're not alone, either," she said gently.

After a moment's hesitation, she felt Elsa's cool hands touch her back, and the coolness of Elsa's tears against her cheek as the lonely princess finally allowed herself to be loved.

.

* * *

**WORD-M'S (IN)FAMOUS KNOWTES:**

Another rather fluffy, schmaltzy chapter, sorry (well, unless that's what you like). I was planning to start the descent towards the climax about now, but the timing wasn't working quite right, and then I was inspired by the "Wardrobe" cut scene from Frozen, so added my own (rather different) version. So things start turning to custard in the next chapter instead.

I've deliberately made the queen a little antagonistic towards Elsa. She absolutely loves her daughter, no question, but she's also very scared of her—not of her powers, but of what would happen if word of her powers got out. She, even more than the king, is anxious to keep Elsa safe, secret. I'm also drawing, or perhaps am influenced, by Merida's relationship with her mother—though rest assured, Queen Idun will emphatically not be changing into a bear—with Elsa, one would assume it would be a polar bear….

Oh, and another reason is because the queen is so meek and not-there in the movie I want to give her a meaty role and some actual character. In this story, the king is the more laid-back one. Also, in my rather limited experience, daughters get on better with fathers than mothers.

The queen's face and gentle expression are based on a still from the movie, which interestingly seems to be reversed—the king is wearing his medals on the right, not the left. Medals always go above the heart, unless you're wearing a (dead) relative's for something like a war memorial ceremony. The gold braid, which is called an "aiguillette," (French for "little needle"), is also usually worn on the right side (while it is worn on the left sometimes, that's by lower ranks, so a monarch will always have it on the right). It originally referred to the lacing used to fasten plate armour together, hence its use on military uniforms.

Cod's importance in the North Sea and indeed the North Atlantic can scarcely be overstated. Britain and Iceland even went to "war" over it in the 1970s—the so-called "Cod Wars," which were pretty harmless as wars go, luckily. Cod trading has been a staple of the Norwegian economy for over a thousand years, and in the remoter parts of Norway in particular, it was always heavily export-focused. In Britain, developments in boat-building technology and the population boom of the Industrial Revolution spurred the growth of bottom-trawling fishing, which has devastated the pelagic ecosystems over the last two centuries. Even as early as 1866, the environmental impact was being felt in Britain, as heard by a Royal Commission—which unfortunately was in the palm of the powerful fishing lobby, so they decided it was in Britain's best interests to exploit natural resources as much as possible (see _The Guardian_'s 9 Feb 2014 article, "Bottom trawling: how to empty the seas in just 150 years" for more details) So if a small country like Arendelle is cut out of the lucrative British market, it will suffer. A lot, therefore, would be riding on this visit. Don't worry—the climax and plot of this story will not become a dry economic and trade treatise….

Oh, and it's this boom in British cod trawling, coupled with the spread of railways across the country, which led to popularity of that most British of foods, fish and chips. Making it a 19th century development, so quite recent as these things go.

Talking of cod, while this story will not make any explicit references to Arendelle's actual location, in my next Frozen story (a cross-over with _Monsters vs Aliens_) I have set Arendelle in the Lofoten Peninsula, as its coastal waters are some of the richest fishing areas in Europe, and thus could sustain an independent economy in such a remote place. Also the scenery around Reine (ideal name for a queen's city) in Lofoten is just wonderful, and fits in quite nicely with what we see on screen with steep peaks rising from the sea.

Carousels, incidentally, developed from medieval training techniques for mounted knights (yeah, hard to imagine). By the 17th century, inspired by cavalry spectacles, carousels began to be popular as fair sideshows. These early ones had no platform—the horses would fly out from the centre by centrifugal force. Much more fun than the modern sort, I think. The modern boring fixed sort developed in the mid-19th century, so Elsa is probably still thinking of the fun sort. Mind you, even the fun sort wouldn't be all that fast. Just as well for me—spinning makes me dreadfully dizzy….

Elsa's gown is of course based on her Let It Go ice gown. Anna's green gown is her coronation gown from the film. I'm not really into fashion, so haven't gone into too much detail here. Shoes at this time were all, even the poorest, hand-made. Mechanized production was only just starting, for the army, at the start of the 19th century. It wasn't until the invention of the sewing machine in 1846 and its application to welting and other steps that shoe production really took off.

Again, sorry the chapter's a little late, and got a little turgid towards the end. Considering I have been working on this right since the last chapter, that's not good progress at all (even though the ending was quite tricky, and I am still not sure it's ideal). It's just that I'm so very busy these days. Please don't take delays as signs that I'm getting bored with this, or am going to abandon it. I'll try and give reasonably regular reports regarding (w)riting (p)rogess (okay, cannot possibly alliterate any more) on my Profile. But hey, at least it's another nice long, relatively happy chapter. This won't last (well, the happiness at any rate)….

[**Posted**: 16 September 2014.]

PS: What's happened to the separator lines when formatting via copy 'n' paste? They're in the Edit pane, but not the original CP pane.

[**Edited**: 17th October 2014: Changed "when we're dressed alike" as this was before Anna got dressed nicely. Oops. Also changed "wardrobe" and "closet" to "dressing room, as, despite what the outtake suggests, of course a princess would have her own dressing room.

And yes, I am working on the next chapter - just a few more days. I've been so busy it's not funny. And okay, I've also been marathoning _Once Upon a Time_ to catch up...]

[**Edited**: 30 March 2015: Minor snafus, including capitalization of "Duke"]

[**Edited**: 21 April 2015: A few minor corrections, including the timing of the duke's arrival. "Next week" cannot be "the end of next month"...]

[**Edited**: 2 July 2015: Changed mistakes with "Elin/Erin".]


	14. Her Signature Snowflake

**14\. Her Signature Snowflake**

[**Last time**: The Duke of Weselton is arriving for a trade negotiation. Elsa has had her own maid negotiation, and has got her mother to agree to let Anna be her lady's maid for the Duke's visit….]

* * *

"Today's the day!" Anna whispered to herself as she woke up. By this time of year, the sun was finally waking before she had to, filling their small room with light. Anna loved the warmer months of the year. For one thing, she definitely preferred not having to break through a layer of ice on their water jug each morning. There was a slight downside, however: a few weeks ago Elsa had informed her, somewhat reluctantly, that morning fires were no longer required. But Anna hadn't minded too much—Sundays spent with the princess were far more fun, and now that it was official that she was going to serve as her maid for the week that the Duke was in Arendelle, Elsa had been openly spending time with her, ostensibly to instruct her in her upcoming duties, her likes and dislikes. However the instruction sessions seldom lasted terribly long before the two girls would abandon their duties and formal lessons for fun. In addition to being able to try on the princess's clothes, ostensibly for training in how to wear them, or doing each other's hair for practice, she especially liked it when Elsa would tell her about some of the stories she'd read, or they would lie down on the princess's large bed and read books together.

The only problem was that it made her other, normal, chores seem so much harder and more dreary. Anna tried to comfort herself with the knowledge that these would be suspended during her week with the princess… but she was also afraid of how much harder it would be to go back to reality, once the dream was over.

But that was still a whole week away. She had seven glorious days of not having to be the dogsbody any more, of having a respected and honoured position—even if many of the other maids might not see it that way. Half of them seemed to pity her, while the other half seemed to scorn her more than usual. But Anna didn't care. She was far too happy to let them bother her.

The young girl quickly splashed some water on her face, then got dressed in the elegant deep green upstairs uniform she had been provided with. It was far nicer than her normal scullery maid's uniform, and Anna felt it made her look so much more adult and mature. Almost like a lady herself in fact, rather than a lady's maid.

Once she was dressed, she headed down to the Servants' Hall for breakfast—for the first time, she would be able to eat with the rest of the staff, rather than serve them. Hilde had been roped into performing that duty, to her extreme annoyance, and Anna was rather glad that it also meant they didn't have to see each other in their room in the morning. But at least she got to sit near the head of the table, beside the other lady's maids, rather than down at the far end.

"Right, the Duke of Weselton is arriving today: his ship is due to dock this afternoon," Kaisson said before the meal. "There will be a welcome reception this evening—is everything prepared, Mr Escoffier?"

The chef raised an eyebrow. "But of course. It will be the finest meal I have yet served. The most exquisite dishes, and featuring of course Arendelle's highest quality klippfisk, the best Superior Extra quality."

Kaisson nodded. "Good. His Majesty is keen to impress upon the duke the quality of our cod. Mrs Gerdason, how's Aslaug's English?"

"She has learned much, Mr Kaisson," the housekeeper said. "She will not disgrace us."

"Good. See that you don't, Aslaug," he added, looking directly at the maid.

"_Jeg vil ikke slippe deg__,"_ Aslaug replied, her face pink.

_"__Bra gjort!_" Kaisson told her, his eye twinkling, and Aslaug's face went pinker.

Anna looked confused. "Was that English?" she whispered to Hilde, standing behind her.

The older girl snorted. "Of course it was, silly. Didn't you understand that? Everyone who is educated speaks English."

"Can you speak it?"

"Quiet, Mr Kaisson is speaking," Hilde shot back, turning her back on Anna, who did her best to suppress a giggle. She paid careful attention to the rest of the morning announcements, and then, after the meal was over, she followed Aslaug into the housekeeper's office for some last minute instructions. Gerdason talked briefly with Aslaug first, then dismissed her and turned to Anna.

"Right, you remember your duties?" she asked.

"I… I think so, Ma'am," Anna said. "Start with the previous day's clothes, then dressing, hair, and so on. And Elsa—and else…uh, other work the princess requires. Her Highness has been most generous with advice."

Gerdason allowed a small smile to cross her face. "I'm glad to hear it." Then she frowned again. "Your duties for this week will be rather lighter than your normal ones. However, I will remind you that this is only a temporary position, and I expect to see you using your free time in a thoughtful fashion. I have seen and been encouraged by your love of reading—I would suggest you pass the time perusing some enlightening book of instruction. Fru Bergum's _Book of Household Management_ comes to mind. I have a copy here, which you are free to borrow."

"Yes, Ma'am," Anna said, her heart sinking at the size of the weighty tome the housekeeper indicated. Elsa might have devoured it, but Anna still preferred fairy tales.

"In addition, please ask me directly if there are any matters you require advice in. And Anna… just don't upset the princess. Her Majesty has confided in me that the princess has been much more cheerful these past few months, and I should hate for one of my maids to be the cause of any fresh discomfort to Her Highness."

Anna shook her head quickly. "No, never, Ma'am!"

"Very well. Just... do your best, Anna," the housekeeper said with a sigh. "That's all any of us can do."

"I won't let you down, Mrs Gerdason!" Anna exclaimed happily. "You'll see!"

"Anna, there is one other thing," Gerdason said quietly. "You do realize that even if you do well, you cannot remain Her Highness's lady's maid."

Anna's face fell. "No, I know, Ma'am," she said.

Then the housekeeper smiled. "But, if you work out well, I think in a few years, there would be no objection to making the position permanent."

Anna's eyes opened wide. "Wow! I mean, er, thank you ever so much, Ma'am! I'll be the best maid ever, I promise!"

* * *

Anna almost skipped along the wide corridor leading to the princess's bedroom. It was only by sternly reminding herself that she was a lady's maid, not a scatty scullery maid, and ought to act accordingly, that stopped her. But she couldn't stop her humming, a little folk tune her grandmother had loved.

She eased open the princess's door, and entered. Elsa was still lying in bed, and appeared to be asleep. Anna headed into the princess's dressing room, where she had to sort out the previous day's clothes, sending some down to the laundry and wiping others free of dust with a special cloth before returning them to their hangers. Then she had to very quietly clean and tidy the room. This took her some time, as she was determined to make sure she did a good job. Once that was done, she tiptoed across to the bedroom window and stood there a moment, trying to steel herself to draw back the curtain and let the bright light of morning into the gloomy chamber, awakening the princess.

"Good morning, Anna," Elsa called suddenly.

Startled, Anna spun around, and smiled. "Good morning, Elsa," she said. "How are you feeling?"

"Uh, you really should call me Highness, Anna," Elsa said, her face a bit pink.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Anna gasped, her eyes round. "I didn't mean to offend! Highness! I'm sorry. I never meant to offend. I thought… after we did… after you said… about us…."

"Anna, yes, yes we are friends," Elsa said. "Of course I'm not offended! When it's just you and me, having fun together, it's fine. But when you're working as my maid, I don't want you to slip up and calling me Elsa in front of anyone else. I don't want my mother finding out I'm getting so fond of you—she would not approve, and might take steps to separate us. And I don't want anything to spoil my plans to change your fate—and mine."

"Oh! I wouldn't want that!" Anna exclaimed, a thrill running up her skin at how the princess had said she was fond of her. "I'll be discreet. I promise. Highness!" she added quickly.

"I'm sure you will," Elsa said with a smile. "And you don't have to call me Highness every single time you speak—just don't call me Elsa, at least until this week is over. It's very important that everything goes perfectly."

"I understand," Anna said. "And… thank you." She drew back the curtains, flooding the room with light, then opened the window to air the room.

Elsa slipped out of bed and padded across to the younger girl. "I don't want you to think I'm some sort of stuck-up princess, you know. I mean, I am a princess, but I hope I'm not stuck-up." She gave a slight laugh. "It's not as if Arendelle is powerful enough for me to be stuck up about anything, as I'm sure that the duke will take pains to remind my father."

Anna frowned. "Isn't that rather rude?"

"Of course. But beggars can't be choosers—and compared to the power and wealth of the British Empire, even the royal family of Arendelle are but beggars."

"Is it really that powerful?" Anna asked. "Britain, I mean?"

Elsa nodded. "Britannia expanded her empire greatly after the Napoleonic Wars. She was largely untouched by them, and with the power of the Industrial Revolution and—oh, but never mind! This isn't a lecture on history. You're not here for lessons—it's the real thing, Anna! I've finally got you as my own!"

"Oh, I so hope I don't disappoint you!" Anna exclaimed. "I'm really going to try my very bestest!"

Elsa smiled at her friend. "I know you will. And don't worry, I'll be gentle on you." She laid her hands delicately on the sill, breathing in the fresh air. "I have a good feeling about this, you know."

"Thank you," Anna said happily. "So do I." There was a brief pause, then Anna remembered her next task. "Er, so what would you like to wear today?"

"Pick something simple," Elsa said, removing her night-dress. "I'll have to change before the duke arrives, but for now, the pale blue one I wore yesterday will do. That one."

"Of course," Anna said. "It's very nice," she added, picking it up and feeling the soft material. In a few moments she had the princess dressed, with a little coaching and reminding, and was carefully brushing Elsa's long blonde hair. Then she braided it as she had practiced many times, curling it up on the princess's head in a tight, neat bun.

"Perfect," Elsa said, smiling at Anna's reflection in the dressing-table mirror. "I'm going down to have breakfast—have you eaten?"

"Yes, earlier," Anna said. She curtseyed as the princess left, and found herself alone in Elsa's room. Her first duty was to pull back all the bedclothes to let them air. Then she hurried down to the kitchen for a cup of old moist tea leaves, which she then carefully sprinkled on the rugs in Elsa's room, sweeping them and the dust up together. After that, she had to dust and polish the furniture, clean the mirrors, refill the water jug, and then make the bed, which she did carefully and methodically. Finally, she plumped and arranged the pillows, wondering as she did so what dreams passed through the head that lay on them, or if they were ever, like hers had so often been in her old life, damp with tears.

And then she was done. Anna just stood there for a few moments, breathing in the air, enjoying the time before her next duties started. She felt strange, almost like an interloper, but also as if she belonged there. All her lessons with Elsa had made it very familiar, but its owner had always been present. She started slowly wandering around the chamber, examining the various items carefully arranged there. She marvelled at the hundreds of volumes piled up neatly in the huge bookcase, many in English or French or German, and even one or two in Latin. There was also a tall stack on Elsa's large desk, with one open and a sheet of paper with carefully-written notes beside it. She glanced at it: it was full of notes on the importance of the cod trade, and recent developments in the British trawling industry. Anna found it extremely tedious even just in note form, which made her very glad that she wasn't a princess and had to study all that stuff.

Beside the desk was a stand holding a strange instrument. It was a small device with a beautifully polished brass tube pointing at a strange tray, and a mirror underneath, all supported by a stand and festooned with various dials. Curious, she bent down to get a closer look, prodding at a dial.

"It's called a microscope," came Elsa's voice suddenly.

Anna whirled, her heart in her mouth. "My apologies, Highness! I know I shouldn't have been prying!"

Elsa smiled. "Oh, I don't mind—look all you like. Do you know what it does?"

Anna shook her head.

"It makes things larger so you can see them better."

The young redhead's eyes opened wide. "Makes them larger? Is… is this magic too?"

Elsa laughed. "No, nothing of the kind. This isn't magic, it's science."

"Science?"

"The study of how the world works, and the laws by which it works," Elsa explained. "Like, how do trees grow? Why does the Earth revolve around the Sun? How did we all get here? This microscope is used for observing things too small to see with the naked eye." She glanced at Anna and smiled. "Here, let me show you. Sit down on that stool."

Anna sat as directed, and was unable to keep a look of anticipation off her face as Elsa removed a glove. "Oh! Are you going to do the magic?"

"No, I am going to do the science," Elsa replied with a smirk. She made a tiny motion with her finger, and a single snowflake formed, hanging in the air. The princess guided it to the microscope tray, and let it settle down gently. Then she peered through the tube, and made some adjustments to the various dials and knobs. "There," she after a few moments. "Take a look."

Anna glanced up at Elsa, confused. "In there?"

"Close one eye, and look down this tube," Elsa told her.

Puzzled, Anna did so, pressing her eye to the eyepiece and squinting down the dark cylinder. Then she gasped. In a circle at the bottom she could see a marvellous lattice of ice, forming an intricate pattern. She'd known that snowflakes all had patterns, but she had never imagined that they were so intricately constructed, with such fine detail. It was like a whole new world opening out before her eyes, a world of pure ice, beautiful and remote. She looked back up at Elsa, not sure what to say.

"What do you think?" the blonde girl asked.

"It's… amazing!" Anna exclaimed. "Are all snowflakes like this?"

"Take a look at this," Elsa said, pulling out a large sketchbook and opening it. Each page was filled with several different snowflake patterns, carefully drawn and labelled. "I collected these over winter," she added. "See how many different shapes there are? Each one is just six sides, but there is an infinite variety of shape and pattern. No two are ever alike." Then she frowned, looking puzzled. "Except mine. Every single snowflake I create is the same shape."

"Why?"

Elsa sighed. "I don't know." She looked at her long pale fingers, flexing them. A few random snowflakes formed, but she ignored them. "I think it's because my snow is not real snow—it's not natural snow, but magical snow. So it doesn't obey the same laws as natural science. I've been trying to find out what laws it does obey, in the hope that…."

"The hope that what?" Anna asked after Elsa had paused for a while.

"That I can work out how this happened to me, how I can create the impossible," Elsa said, sudden frustration in her voice. "But I can't! It's magic! There are no laws I can detect! All these instruments, all these books, all this modern science and technology, they're hopeless! Useless! I'll never be able to get cured!"

"Cured? Why would you want to? I think it's amazing!" Anna cried. "I wish I could make snow! It's so cool!"

Elsa gave a rather bitter laugh. "It's certainly cool, in a literal sense. But it's not the most useful ability. After all, Arendelle doesn't exactly suffer a snow shortage normally."

"But it's such fun! I wish I could make snowmen, and snowballs, and play in the snow whenever I liked!"

"Yes, it can be fun," Elsa admitted. "Especially with you. I admit, I do love creating beautiful things with it. But it's getting stronger, harder to control." She replaced her glove, and sighed, looking at it. "I have to wear these all the time, now. I'm scared to touch people without them." Then her expression suddenly changed to despair. "Oh, Anna, how can I ever marry, if I might freeze my husband to death one day?"

Anna's mouth opened in shock. "You couldn't! You wouldn't! Not ever!"

Elsa looked at her, eyes wide with fear. "But Anna, what if I did? What then? How can I take that risk? I've already—" She broke off suddenly, clenching her hands into fists, and took a deep breath. "No, it's better that I never marry. I dare not allow myself to love. It's… it's just not worth the risk."

"Oh, Elsa," Anna said, moving over to her friend. "Please don't say that. You'll find love one day. And it'll all be all right—you'll see. Don't all the stories say that true love conquers all?"

The princess smiled sadly. "If only real life were as simple as those fairy tales you love. But it's not. I don't know what I can do. If I marry, I might hurt the one I love. If I don't marry… what will happen to Arendelle? Who will rule it after I am gone?"

"Perhaps the answer isn't to be found at the bottom of your microscope," Anna suggested. "Perhaps the answer isn't in your books of science and natural phil… philophy…"

"Philosophy," Elsa finished, smiling. Then her expression darkened, and she looked up at the hundreds of volumes in her room. "So where do I look? How can I understand myself? There are no answers here."

"Elsa, this—your power, it's magic. Perhaps we need to look in the books which tell us about magic."

The blonde girl frowned. "History books?"

Anna shook her head. "No, fairy tales! They must have the answer!"

"But Anna, they're not true—you know that, right?"

"Well… maybe there's truth in them. Ever think of that? Elsa, there's more to life than science and history!"

Elsa gave a short laugh. "Are you saying there are more things in heaven and earth, Anna, than are dreamt of in my philosophy? Am I to be the Princess of Denmark?"

"I thought you said you weren't going to marry?"

Elsa laughed again, this time more freely. Anna stood there pouting, hands on her hips, feeling vaguely as if the princess were making fun of her. Elsa smiled, and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead.

"Don't get upset, dear Anna. It was just a silly joke. Thank you for cheering me up."

"I… you're welcome," Anna stammered. Despite the coolness of the princess's lips, her forehead somehow felt flushed and hot. The princess had called her "dear"…. Elsa really did like her….

A sudden knock at the door brought her back to reality. She quickly smoothed her dress as Elsa called "Enter."

The door opened, and Kaisson appeared. His right eyebrow flickered briefly at seeing Anna there, but he ignored her and directed his attention to the princess. "Your Highness, the duke's ship has just made port. We expect him within the hour."

"I understand. Thank you, Kaisson."

The butler gave a gentle cough. "Highness, your… er, Their Majesties have requested that you join them to greet him when he disembarks."

"Wait, we're not receiving him in the Great Hall?" Elsa asked, her eyes wide with sudden fear.

"Their Majesties are most keen to impress upon the duke their sincerity, Highness," Kaisson said.

Elsa nodded. "Thank you, Kaisson. That will be all," she added, when he did not immediately leave. After casting a quick glance at Anna again, he did so, with a bow.

Elsa made a face, then looked at Anna with a wry smile. "I don't suppose we could send you out in my place? No, of course not, don't look so scared. My parents might just realize you weren't their daughter." She sighed. "I wish I didn't have to go out."

"Nothing will happen, Highness," Anna said. "There's nothing to fear."

"There's everything to fear, Anna," the princess said. "What if I have an accident? What if the duke finds out I'm…I'm a witch?"

"He won't," Anna said. "You'll be safe. You're strong. I know you'll be fine."

Elsa gave Anna a weak smile. "I know I'll be glad you'll be there."

Anna blinked. "Wait, what?"

"Well, one's lady's maid generally accompanies one on excursions," Elsa told her.

"Oh wow!" Anna cried, her heart skipping. "This is going to be so fantastic!"

Elsa raised an eyebrow. "Not the most lady-like reaction." Then she reached out for Anna's hand, wrapping her cold gloved fingers around the younger girl's warmth. "But I'm glad you're coming with me…."

"I'm glad you're going with me!" Anna said. "It'll be so wonderful to get out, see the town!"

"We won't see much of it, mind. Straight to the docks and back." She swallowed. "At this stage, I think that's about all I could handle." There was a short silence, then Elsa gave Anna a quick smile. "Right, we need to find me something to wear. Something suitable to greet a duke and representative of a foreign crown, and not too gaudy. The dark blue one, I think."

* * *

Half an hour later the princess was ready, in a long dark blue skirt and a matching jacket with gold frogging over a black waistcoat. The hem of the skirt featured subtle motifs of pine and flowers, and a large amethyst decorated the throat of her teal undershirt. A wide red cummerbund at her slim waist was almost the only splash of bright colour. The princess looked at herself in the mirror. "Conceal it, don't feel it, don't let it show," she chanted under her breath.

"You look so beautiful, Highness," Anna breathed.

"I feel so hot," Elsa said. "But thank you." She glanced over at the maid, giving her a wry smile. "Well, I suppose we should be going. Come on!"

The two girls pattered down the grand staircase, the first time Anna had ever walked down it. She had spent many mornings polishing the brass carpet rods, but now she was descending them, a few steps behind Elsa, just like a fairytale princess. She pretended that she was a few years older, descending the steps to meet her Prince Charming, and they would dance the night away at a grand ball before getting married and living happily ever after—Anna wasn't terribly clear on the steps between meeting _The One_, and marriage.

She followed the princess out the main doors, which she had never, not once, been through, and then she was curtsying to the king and queen as gracefully as she could, and then she was seated opposite the princess in the carriage carrying the queen and they were suddenly flying through the city streets. Her head was in a whirl at all the new experiences. Never in her young life had Anna had been in a carriage, and she couldn't believe the speed and ease at which they travelled. She would have pressed her face against the glass and stared, had it been at all acceptable. As it was, she had to content herself with quick glimpses, but it was enough to marvel at.

"You look lovely today, dear," the queen said, smiling at her daughter as the carriage swished down the street, following the king's larger one.

"Thank you, Mother," Elsa responded.

The queen tucked away a stray strand of hair on her daughter's head. "I am surprised, indeed." She glanced briefly at Anna, who was seated beside the queen's own maid. "She has, I admit, done rather better than I had expected. You have trained her well."

Elsa gave Anna a brief smile, which the maid acknowledged with a bob of her head. Then the princess's face hardened, and she stared out of the window. Anna could see her swallow.

"Don't be nervous, Elsa," the queen said.

"I'm fine, Mother," the blonde girl replied. She glanced at Anna, who gave her the tiniest of smiles. "I'm fine. Nothing will happen."

"Oh, we're here," the queen announced as the rattle of the wheels on the cobbles slowed, then stopped. The door opened, and the queen exited, followed by Elsa, then the queen's maid after a suitable pause, with Anna last. The young redhead knew the port area well, as her father's home was not far from here, and she had often come this way, hoping to sell matches to the sailors for their pipes. She liked the sailors, on the whole—some were brusque and rude, but most had seemed to consider her almost like a little mascot, and she had a number of regulars. The only problem was that they weren't terribly well-off themselves, and so she never managed to sell many matches. So her father kept insisting she work the town square and the nicer areas of town, even though the people there clearly didn't want to see her there.

But that was all in the past, Anna thought as she looked around happily. Today she was lady's maid to none other than the princess herself, and no part of town was higher ranking than the royal castle itself. And that was her home. Eager to see who this English duke might be, and enjoy the pomp and pageantry of an official welcome, she hurried after her young mistress.

* * *

Elsa took a deep breath as she surveyed the crowds. There were always crowds outside, wherever she went. She found herself wishing she could duck down into an alley, incognito, and never have to face all those eyes on her. Sometimes she was quite convinced that they could sense her fear, knew that she was… that she was a witch. She imagined them pursuing her with pitchforks and flaming torches, like in the stories, and shuddered, clasping her hands tightly together in front of her. She would have much preferred to hold Anna's hand, but that was quite out of the question. Even holding her own mother's hand was, now she was no longer a baby. Besides, her parents had not held her for many years now, not since her powers first started to become powerful enough to hurt others. She was a big girl now, and even with all these people around, looking, staring at her, she would be strong and confident; she would impress her mother with how mature she was, how close to being an adult.

The king came over from his own carriage, and she curtseyed to him.

"Elsa, you look so delightful today, my child," he said, smiling at her. "Don't worry about a thing. Your mother and I will greet the duke first, and then your mother will introduce you. Remember, the duke speaks no Norwegian, so greet him in English."

She nodded, then followed her parents down to the jetty, Anna and the other servants and officials a discreet distance behind. They arranged themselves on the narrow wooden dock, where a red carpet had been unrolled, leading to the ship. The Union Jack was also prominently displayed all over the port, with masses of bunting and flowers, which Elsa found all rather over the top.

The duke's ship had already docked, and the deck was being cleaned. Then at a signal a gangplank was laid down, and the soldiers on the ship formed up and stood in two rows. A band started playing _God Save the King_. The port area was becoming increasingly crowded with people, and everyone seemed to be looking at them. At her. At the secluded princess, on one of her rare public appearances. What were they saying about her? What rumours were there about her?

Elsa felt increasingly nervous, and could feel her hands chilling, despite the gloves. She stood rigidly, her gaze focused on the back of her mother's head, trying to pretend she was safe at home. But it wasn't working well. She held her hands behind her back, out of sight, and tried to ignore their growing chill, to focus her mind. Then she felt a pair of warm hands steal into hers and give them a squeeze. She glanced around, and saw that Anna had moved up a few steps to stand immediately behind her. The princess gave her friend a quick discreet smile, then looked ahead again, feeling her anxiety start to dissolve like ice under the summer sun.

* * *

Due to the narrowness of the jetty, Anna was standing only a short distance behind the princess. She was admiring the small diamond and aquamarine gems in her pale blonde hair, then as Elsa moved her hands behind her back, Anna's gaze automatically went there. She was about to look around at something else when she noticed something strange: Elsa's pale blue gloves were starting to frost over, with a fine, delicate tracery of ice. To a casual observer, it might have merely looked like a pattern in the fabric, but Anna knew the princess well enough now to realize the truth. Elsa was terrified. She had to do something, she had to let her know she was safe.

So she cautiously moved up a couple of steps to stand directly behind the older girl, grateful for her shorter height hiding her from the front. Knowing it was taking a terrible liberty for a maid, she nevertheless reached out her hands and clasped them around the princess's frigid digits, almost gasping at how cold they were. It was like holding a block of ice. But she didn't let go; she kept on holding her friend's hands, despite the pain, which soon lessened as Elsa's grip grew warmer.

"Attention!" cried a soldier, starling her, and the honour guard snapped to attention as a short, elderly man with large pince-nez sitting on his impressive nose, underneath which an even larger moustache curled, walked mincingly to the edge of the ship. He nodded to the assembled crowd, and gingerly stepped onto the gangplank, picking his way down, his head bobbing around in a way that reminded Anna of a great chicken.

The king bowed as the duke approached. "Velkommen til Arendelle, Jarl av Wesseltun," he said.

The duke nodded a greeting. "Sank you," he said in heavily accented Norwegian. "Glad to here be, I am."

"Jeg håper reisen var hyggelig," the king said. The duke looked confused for a moment, then smiled and replied, then the king talked some more. Anna had not followed any of the foreign language, but then the queen was curtsying and without warning Elsa quickly moved forward a step, pulling her hands out of Anna's grip. To her horror, Anna realized that she had been left holding the princess's gloves. Elsa's hands were completely bare.

* * *

Elsa stared at her pale hands, shocked. But she couldn't turn back and get her gloves back. The duke was standing there, head bowed in greeting. Trying to remain calm, Elsa curtseyed low.

"I am honoured to meet you," she said in fluent English.

The duke smiled. "Such a beautiful maiden of the North, a crocus amidst the snows. The honour, and the pleasure, is all mine."

Then he went to kiss her hand, and Elsa froze for an instant. _She would not feel, she would not feel_, she told herself. _Nothing would happen_. She swallowed, trying to fill her mind with the memory of how wonderfully warm Anna's hand had been, and lifted hers up. It almost seemed as if she could see a lingering glow, the faintest remnant of warmth, and then the duke had gently grasped her hand and kissed the air just above her knuckles in a smooth, practiced motion. She saw him pause in surprise, a brief furrowing of his eyebrows, but then he stood erect again and smiled at her as if nothing were the matter. She nodded at him briefly, and then the king started talking again, guiding the duke towards the waiting carriages. Elsa caught Anna's eye, and gave her a brief smile as she passed her, following her parents.

Then she was in the carriage again, with her father and the duke in the other, and they were rattling back to the castle and safety. She sat in silence, staring out the window, replaying the Duke's reaction over and over in her mind. Had he noticed anything? Had her hand been too cold to be natural? She was fairly sure that her hands had been free of frost, but she could never tell herself if they were merely their normal coolness, or actually inhumanly cold. She hoped they were just cool, as befitted a princess. But then he had looked surprised. Yes, he had definitely been surprised, Elsa reminded herself. But was he just surprised at a cooler-than-normal hand, or had he been shocked by an actual frozen hand, and was concealing his true feelings? Could there even have been some frost on her hand?

"Elsa!" her mother suddenly whispered. "Be careful!"

Startled, the princess glanced down. A thin sheen of ice was creeping out from her still-bare hands. She had been so flustered and worried about the Duke that she had even forgotten to put the gloves back on. "Sorry, Mother," she said. "Anna, my gloves, if you will."

"Of course, Highness," Anna said, handing them over.

Elsa smiled at her, seeing the warmth in her open, innocent face. The warmth of the hands that had wrapped around hers. The warmth that had prevented her hands from frosting over. With Anna by her side, she decided, perhaps the world outside was not so terrifying. Anna could help her control her ice, help her conceal it. She no longer needed to be afraid. Not now that she had a friend.

.

* * *

**KNOWTES**

First up, as is becoming all too common these days, I must once again apologize for the massive delay. There are a number of reasons for this, chiefly the amount of RL work I have on. Also, with the introduction of Elsa and _Frozen_ to _Once Upon A Time_, I have been a little distracted. I started watching OUAT last year, and gave up after about the seventh episode as I really couldn't take any more of That Kid. Then I saw the first Elsa episode, and basically ignored the other characters. But that wasn't really tenable, as I had no idea what was going on— for example, who was this Hook chap? Why was the Evil Queen so not Evil? So I decided I really ought to catch up. And to my surprise, I found that I'd left off at pretty much precisely where it started to get good. So I marathoned the rest. Some of it was silly, some of it was tedious (Neverendingland), but I love Regina, as well as Rumple and some of the other characters (except Charming, who is dull in every sense) so that bit into a fair bit of writing time. I regret nothing…. Especially as the chapter was having problems. I had some issues, with timing and chapter lengths, so the climax that I had hoped to end this chapter with has been shifted to the next chapter, and a smaller climactic moment coupled with a bit of growth or realization for Elsa has been added to finish this one off. I also rather like writing Anna and Elsa having good times together as friends.

One of the biggest problems with writing, I find, is pacing. I know what dramatic twists and turns will come, and I know I want to end each chapter with something strong, rather than have it just end. So it's finding things to put in the chapter to make sure these endings come at the right pace, while still having enough in the chapter to explain and justify the endings, that seems to take time. Often, the timing doesn't work out as smoothly, leaving me with either extremely long chapters, or with filler chapters. The characters need to get from A to B, and we need to see how they get there. The former is easy. The latter, less so.

Anyway, it's time for Dr Wordmangler's regular lecture….

"Klippfisk" is the Scandinavian term for dried cod. "Superior Extra" quality is the highest quality of Norwegian salt cod.

To express spoken English as a foreign language in this story, I will use spots of Norwegian: as in the story everyone is speaking Norwegian in "reality," I have just swapped the languages. I don't speak any Norwegian, but have carefully checked, and the phrases seem to be accurate. Aslaug said "I will not fail you," and Kaisson replied "Well done!" "Velkommen til Arendelle" means "Welcome to Arendelle of course," and I very much hope "Jeg håper reisen var hyggelig" means "I hope your trip was enjoyable" (I can't find any exact quotes in Norwegian for it, but Google Translate reckons it's right) but any errors in the Norwegian can be put down to the king speaking a foreign language (hence the momentary hesitation by the duke…). I'll try and keep these bits of Gratuitous Norwegian to a minimum however. Just to indicate confusion on Anna's part. So when we are seeing things from Elsa's POV, I will use English for English, as Elsa understands it. Incidentally, "Jarl av Wesseltun" is the official Norwegian name of the character, spelling change and all, as taken from the Norwegian Wikipedia.

"Fru Bergum's Book of Household Management" is based on the 1861 "Mrs Beeton's Book of Household Management," which I drew on for details about what lady's maids do ("Fru" is Norwegian for "Mrs." Bit like the German "Frau"). All the facts about what a lady's maid does is drawn from this and other sources, though a few sources seem to conflict. I have kept most of the details out. But the bit about the lady's maid accompanying her mistress on excursions is taken from Beeton, and not made up for this story. Several sources say that the higher-ranking maids would take breakfast separately, with the housekeeper, though we don't seem to see that in Downton Abbey. As this story is being written on the fly, so to speak, I often find out facts that I would have liked to incorporate from the start. Some of them I will go back and fix—like giving Elsa an actual dressing room, rather than just a wardrobe (I should never depend on Disney outtakes for historical fact). At any rate, her "wardrobe" has transformed into an actual "dressing room" in this chapter, and I have also corrected the previous chapter (which, since it was a walk-in wardrobe, is essentially a dressing room in all but name).

Apart from the obvious magic, and of course the limitations of my research and knowledge, I don't want to distort facts just because they're cool.

While the British Empire was not yet at its maximum extent, it was already very powerful by 1836, having ridden out the Napoleonic Wars with less damage than most European countries, and of course its early start in the Industrial Revolution and its very powerful navy (after the 1805 Battle of Trafalgar Britain basically ruled the seas) gave it major advantages. In other words, it could crush Arendelle like an easily crushable thing and still be home in time for afternoon tea.

Elsa's single-patterned snow is based on her "signature" snowflake pattern we see several times in the film. I also think it helps set it off as magic snow. And if it's not obvious, Elsa is referencing Bacon's famous play, "Piglet: Prince of Denmark" ("There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy" is the correct quote, where Hamlet takes Horatio to task for not believing in ghosts). Thus the "philosophy" referenced here is more classical philosophy with its speculations about the natural order rather than Kant and Wittengard. Basically, natural philosophy, which developed into modern science. We still refer to "natural history," which is another of the founding cores of science: the former is more about the explanations, whereas natural history is more descriptive and qualitative: hence why museums of natural history are full of descriptions, I guess….

Elsa's dress here is the one we see her wearing briefly as a 12-year-old in the film. There's a nice website by the designer talking about her clothes. I hadn't realized how they got darker and darker as she got older. Possibly as Elsa at 12 and 18 is on screen so briefly. Frogging, if you don't know, refers to the ornate braiding fastening coats, often used as decoration.

_God Save the King_ does, as far as I can tell, appear to have been in use by this stage. The king in this case was William IV, who would be succeeded the following year (1837) by Victoria.

When kissing a lady's hand, if you are meeting her for the first time, do not actually contact her skin with your lips. That is only permitted when you know the lady. Technically, the duke should not have made any moves to kiss her hand until Elsa had actually extended it, but in this sort of situation it would be fully expected that hands would be kissed, so he just jumped the gun a bit.

Some answers to questions from unregistered readers (I'd also like to thank all unregistered reviewers for their kind comments):

1\. _ForgotUsername_: Elsa in my story (as I hope has been clear already) is just as much a giant nerd and bookworm as Canon!Elsa, if not more so. I've carefully kept her love of maths (which I personally hate) and geometry, and added in architecture and of course a few other things which she would have to learn anyway. She also read through the books her father gave her very fast, you'll note. And in the very first chapter, I even mention her being given a telescope for Christmas. I'm glad you like the longer chapters. Sorry this is a shorter one, but otherwise the delay would be even worse. I'll try and make that up with a reasonably rapid update this time….

2\. _Firestar_: By "soulmates" I mean extremely close. I don't think it needs to mean romantic love. There's lots of other very close love. The power of friendship, for example. I intend for them to be a lot closer than your mate you meet for a pint down the pub every Friday, for example.

[**Posted**: 19th October 2014]

**Added THANKS**: Pottere1 has spotted an inconsistency with Anna's family. Good catch - I had completely missed it. I'll change that asap, as soon as I can figure how the best way to do it. And if anyone else spots any problems like this, or just a spalling erorr, please let me know... [31 October] And Pascal Dragon has helpfully pointed out an editing mistake in the Knowtes, regarding the continuation of the philosophy discussion.

[**Edited**: 30 March 2015. Minor errors fixed.]

[**Edited**: 22 April 2015. More minor errors, changed a bit of wording here and there. Nothing major, don't worry.]


	15. Her Birds Fill the Skies

**15\. Her Birds Fill the Skies**

[Last time on _Sleeping Flower_: Anna has started work as Elsa's (temporary) lady's maid. The Duke of Weselton has also arrived, to negotiate the cod trade, and there was a minor incident when greeting, when Elsa's hand was far colder than normal.]

* * *

Elsa was sitting by the window at the top of the castle, peering through her telescope at the distant town. It was something she liked to do from time to time. She felt safe up there, hidden in the topmost tower, where she could look down on the people, far away. The distance made them seem small, unthreatening, and she loved to watch them go about their daily business, completely unaware that they were being observed. But today, for some reason, it didn't seem as interesting. It felt hollow, unreal. Isolating.

"Elsa, my child?"

She turned at the sound of her father's voice, and stood up. "Pappa?"

"Why are you hiding all the way up here, Elsa?" He walked towards her, concern on his slim features.

Elsa shrugged. "I like the view," she said, gesturing to the window.

"You like the security," her father noted. "Seeing without having to mingle, to meet people."

"Well, so what if I do?" Elsa muttered, fiddling with her telescope.

The king sighed. "Elsa, I know it's hard to deal with new people in the castle," he said. "I know it hasn't been easy. I know you've been struggling at dinner in particular. Having to control your… your curse all the time, it can't be easy."

"He even asked why I keep my gloves on to eat, you know!" Elsa said. "He's a guest in our house! That's rude!"

Her father laughed. "He may be a guest, but he's also someone very important, so we have to forgive the odd lapse. He seems to have taken a particular interest in you, as well."

Elsa's eyes narrowed. "Well, I wish he wouldn't."

"He does seem quite impressed by your knowledge of Britain and our trade with them, however," the king added. "So you're doing very well there, my darling girl. Yes, very well…."

"But?"

"What do you mean, Elsa?"

"I sense a 'but' coming, Pappa," Elsa said, her eyes narrowed.

"Well, I suppose… Elsa, there's something I'm going to have to ask you," her father said, looking serious.

"What is it?" Elsa asked, her brows furrowing.

"You see, negotiations with the duke… they're not going as well as they could. We need to try and make him better disposed towards us, towards our kingdom."

"What do you mean?"

The king looked nervously at his daughter. "He's… he's asked to see some of the town while he is here."

Elsa shrugged. "A simple enough request."

"He has asked you to be his guide."

Elsa's heart seemed to stop. "Me! Be his guide!"

"He specifically requested it, Elsa. It seems he wishes to get to know you better."

"Get... to know me? In what way?" the young girl asked, shrinking back against the window, holding her gloved hands tightly in front of her chest.

"What do you mean?" the king asked, his face puzzled.

"Pappa, when we met, when the duke took my hand… it was cold. I mean, Anna helped warm it, but I was so nervous, it was… unnatural. He noticed."

"Oh, I'm sure he didn't, my dear," the king said. He briefly extended his arm, as if to comfort his child, but pulled it back and stood there, hands behind his back.

"He did, I know," Elsa said. "And he's been watching me ever since. What if he thinks I'm a… a witch? What if he tells everyone Arendelle shelters witches? We might even get invaded… driven out of our home…."

"Elsa, really, you are morbid at times," the king said, smiling.

"But he might!" his young daughter protested. "Maybe not right away. Maybe not as long as you live. But when you're dead, and I'm queen? When stories get out about the dangerous Snow Queen?"

"Really, Elsa, you shouldn't be so afraid of things," her father said, looking concerned.

"And why not? I'm a witch with powers I can't fully control!" Elsa retorted. She looked out of the window, at the town that lay beyond, and sighed. "How can I ever be queen like this? How can I rule, and meet councillors, and ambassadors, and go out among the people? All those people, always around me, constantly…. I can't… I just can't…." Elsa turned tear-filled eyes on her father. "Pappa, please don't make me go out there with the duke."

"You'll be fine, Elsa, you really will," he said.

"But alone, out in public—oh, won't you or Mamma come with me?"

The king smiled. "I'm afraid not. But you'll not be alone. Why not take your lady's maid?"

"Oh, wait, of course—Anna!" Elsa's sudden smile lit up the room. "That will be much better!"

"You really like her, don't you?" the king asked tenderly. "I've heard from Kaisson that she thinks the world of you."

Elsa found her cheeks turning pink. "Well, I… I like her too."

The king smiled indulgently. Then his expression became serious again. "But Elsa, do have a care. Remember the power dynamic: she's just a maid. You shouldn't get too close to her."

Elsa glowered. "Because she's just a maid?"

"Because you might end up hurting her," her father said.

"I would never!" Elsa exclaimed, holding her hands even more tightly.

The king shook his head. "That's not the only way you could hurt her. Remember, you're the Crown Princess of Arendelle, and she's a—she was just a beggar girl. You might think your friendship can overcome this class difference, but… in the end, it won't work out. Elsa, don't look like that. I'm not trying to make you unhappy. I'm just trying to spare you future pain. Spare you both. You might consider her your plaything of the hour, but it's certain that she does not."

"I do not consider her that!" Elsa exclaimed, looking cross. "She's not a plaything! Oh, and Pappa, oh please listen!" she added, brightening as she remembered her plans. "I've got this most wonderful idea! About Anna and the duke! It'll make the day so much more wonderful!"

"Do tell, sweetheart," her father said with an indulgent smile. "Anything to make you feel better about leaving the castle."

"What if we told the duke Anna was a lady?"

"You mean a peer? One of the nobility? But why?"

"I've been training her," Elsa said, "and I want to see how well she can act."

"She won't mind you using her like this?"

Elsa shook her head. "I know she won't. She'll love it."

"Well, if you're sure, then she's your maid. Just ensure she doesn't do anything to upset the duke."

"Oh, I'm sure she won't," Elsa said, feeling better than she had all day.

* * *

"Good morning, Highness," Anna said, drawing back the curtains a few days after the duke's arrival.

"I don't think I can face this. Please tell me it's raining, Anna," the princess said, her head buried under the blankets.

"Nope! It's a lovely sunny day, Sleeping Beauty! Not a cloud in the sky! No, wait, there's one over there! Just a little one—he must be so lonely, all the way up there with no one to play with!"

"I wish I were that cloud," Elsa muttered.

"Come on! You do not!" Anna retorted. "Who'd want to be alone all the time?"

"Me, for one," Elsa said, reluctantly removing her head from under the blankets. She ran her hand through her tousled blonde hair, and sighed. "Sometimes I wish I never had to see anyone ever again."

"Would you like me to leave, and you can do your own hair and dress yourself, then?" Anna asked with a laugh.

"Sometimes I think it would be worth it," Elsa sighed.

"Oh." The young maid stood there awkwardly, not sure what to say.

"Cheer up, Anna! I didn't mean it like that! Of course I didn't mean _you_ when I said I wished I could be alone. It's just that I always seem to be surrounded by people, even here. And today I have to be surrounded by even more. I have to play tour guide to our foreign guest around town."

"Wait, what? Really? You're going out? You?"

"I share your surprise," Elsa remarked dryly. "However I have no choice. It seems the duke asked for me personally."

"But why?"

Elsa looked at the young redhead. "I… I don't know. I think… I think he might be suspicious about me. He noticed my hand when we met, I just know it."

"He hasn't said anything, surely?"

"No, of course not. He wouldn't. Not without more proof."

"And you think he wants to be alone with you to get more proof?" Anna gasped.

Elsa shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not."

"At any rate, you won't be alone," Anna declared. "After all, if you're going out, as a princess your maid will be in attendance as well, right?"

Elsa smirked, raising an eyebrow. "No, actually. My maid will not be coming with us."

Anna's face fell. "Uh, no? You… you wish me to remain here?"

The princess bounded out of bed and rushed over to Anna, taking her hands. "My _maid_ will not be coming with us, but my _friend_, Lady Anna, will! We'll dress you up in fine clothes and tell the duke you're the daughter of... of Lord Skarsgard, perhaps. He's been attending the negotiations, so the duke will know the name."

Anna's heart leapt into her throat. "But… but…."

"But me no buts, Anna," Elsa grinned, waggling her finger. "Let's see how well I've trained you! You won't have to say anything to him, because he doesn't speak any Norwegian, and won't notice your different accent. Anyway, even that's much less stronger than it used to be."

"Are you sure?"

"It'll work, believe me! Trust me!" She shrugged. "And even if it doesn't, nothing bad will happen. After all, you're just doing as your mistress ordered. You won't be blamed at all."

"Really? Oh, in that case… I'd love to!" Anna cried. "Oh, this will be wonderful!"

* * *

After lunch, Anna helped Elsa get ready, and then Elsa assisted Anna. Elsa was wearing her dark blue dress, while Anna was dressed in the same green sleeveless one she had tried on before. While she knew she should not be nervous, because after all the princess was with her and that made it all right, she still found her heart fluttering as the two of them pattered down the stairs to the entrance hall.

The king was waiting there with the duke, and at the sight of them, Anna felt her hands start to shake. She shouldn't be there; she shouldn't be wearing such a nice dress; she shouldn't be pretending to the duke she was anything more than a lowly maid. How could they pull this off? Surely he would realize she was just a commoner the moment he laid eyes on her. She rather wished she could run away and hide. But this was something her mistress, her princess… her friend… wanted. So Anna took a deep breath, and curtseyed first to the king, and then to the duke.

"My goodness, is that really the half-starved beggar girl you rescued this winter, Elsa?" the king said, staring at Anna.

Elsa smiled. "This is indeed Anna."

"Well I never," he said, a slight smile on his lips. "You've trained her so well. She looks so pretty, one might almost think she were a real lady!"

"What's the delay?" the duke asked in English, looking curiously at Anna. "Who is this child? Your sister?"

"No, Your Grace," Elsa replied in the same language. "This is my… my friend, Lady Anna. She will accompany us today."

"Ah, enchanted to meet you, my dear," the duke said, bowing. He stood there expectantly, and Anna felt a brief moment of panic before she remembered what she had to do. Trying to copy the graceful way Elsa had done it on the dock, Anna extended her hand, palm down, and let the duke bow over it and briefly kiss the air just above her knuckles, while she dipped in a quick, shallow curtsey.

"I happy to see you, I very am," the duke said in rather broken Norwegian.

Anna gave him a sweet smile. "Eg… eg heiter Anna," she replied in a small, nervous voice. "K… Kjekt å treffe… de… deg."

Elsa's eyes opened wide. Since when had Anna learned to speak English?

"The pleasure is all mine, I assure you," the duke replied in his own tongue. Anna flushed, and looked up at Elsa for help.

"I am afraid my friend does not speak much English," Elsa said. "I shall interpret."

"I do hope you will enjoy this tour of our fair town," the king said. "Anna, take good care of your mistress," he added in Norwegian. "And do not offend the duke."

"I understand, Your Majesty," Anna said, curtseying low.

The king looked at his daughter. "Elsa, remember what I told you. And remember that you need to be back by five, as His Grace will be meeting Jarl Lothbrok at six, followed by dinner at seven."

"Yes, Father," Elsa said, dipping in a brief curtsey.

The Duke held out his hand. "If you would permit me, Highness?"

Not willing to let him touch her any more than necessary, Elsa pretended she didn't see his gesture, and indicated the main doors. The duke gave her a quick look, then followed her and Anna out. They headed down the steps and into a waiting carriage, its hood folded down and open to the sky. Kristoff was holding the reins of the pair of horses, while the driver waited on the high driving box in front and two guards stood in the rear.

"The horses are watered and ready, Your Highness," Kristoff said, then did a double take as he caught sight of Anna in her elegant green gown. "Is… wait… uh…. Are you…?"

"Good afternoon, Kristoff," Anna said in an imitation of Elsa's voice, doing her best to suppress a most unladylike grin. "Her Highness and I are going to show His Grace the sights of our fair city."

"You're… grace... sights?" He blinked, and moved closer to Anna while the duke was being assisted into the carriage. "Hey, kid, what's going on?"

"Hush, I'll tell you later," Anna said. Then she gave him a slight curtsey. "What do you think? Do I look like a lady?"

"You... you look like a real princess," Kristoff gasped, scratching his head.

"Why, thank you, my good man," Anna said, no longer able to suppress her grin. "And so do you!"

"Hey!" he called as Anna giggled and followed Elsa up.

The two girls sat side by side, facing the duke, and at a word from the driver, the barouche clattered across the courtyard. Elsa took a deep breath and held Anna's hand tightly as they passed through the castle gates, and Anna gave her a reassuring squeeze.

"Why did you build the castle on the sea?" the duke asked, looking around curiously as they headed along the causeway to the mainland.

"Arendelle was originally founded by the Viking lord, Jarl Àrnadalr, in the eighth century," Elsa said, relaxing quickly as she could concentrate on talking about history, and forget the fact that she was so open, so exposed. "The name comes from the valley, _orn__dalr_ or Eagle Valley, which runs up from the end of the fjord, though some scholars suggest it's from _arin dalr_, or "dwelling valley." "Dwelling dell," if you like. The site where the castle now stands was where Jarl Àrnadalr's longhouse was, on a rocky outcropping he called Eagle's Perch, to provide a secure base for his fleet of longships. The castle itself, which is formally known as Kastellet ved Sjøen or Citadel-by-the-Sea, dates back to the 1240s, with the oldest part being the High Medieval Great Hall, but has been extensively remodelled inside by my grandfather and father to make it into a comfortable modern home."

"It is indeed quite cosy. But also a rather modest home for royalty," the duke commented. "My own home, Cavendish Castle, is twice the size. And wooden? Hardly fit for a monarch, surely? Why do you not have a splendid palace of stone?"

"We prefer a more modest, intimate monarchy in Arendelle," Elsa commented, trying not to let the duke's veiled jibes get to her. "We prefer to spend our money on ensuring our people are well and happy rather than on great palaces of stone and gold."

Weselton laughed. "Well put, my dear," he said. "Forgive me. Yes, the people must come first. We wouldn't want to end up like the poor Widow Capet, would we?"

"Elsa, what's so funny?" Anna asked in Norwegian.

"My apologies," Elsa said. "The duke was commenting on how important it is to take care of one's people, or else it might lead to revolution, like with the French Bourbons. He was expressing his sympathy for Marie Antoinette."

"Oh, that would be horrid!" Anna exclaimed. "To have your head chopped off!"

"I would prefer that to burning at the stake," Elsa muttered, looking at the gloves which helped conceal her witch nature.

"Oh, look, there's the cathedral!" Anna cried, pointing at a tall green spire of oxidized copper in the distance.

Elsa smiled at her friend, knowing she was trying to distract her. "Let us go there first, then. Driver! The Cathedral of St. Olaf!"

"What is this Olav?" Weselton asked in English, his eyes narrowed.

"St. Olaf is the patron saint of Arendelle," Elsa explained. "He is credited with bringing Christianity to the country, although some scholars consider he actually had little to do with it, and that he was a rather bloody tyrant."

"If he brought the Word of God to these heathen lands, then his methods are not to be questioned," the duke said stiffly.

"I believe we should acknowledge both the good and bad in everyone," Elsa said in a quiet voice, trying to avoid getting into an argument. "The bad does not negate the good, but nor does the good excuse the bad that people do."

"That is not up to us to judge," the duke replied. He peered through his large glasses at the princess. "My, but you are precocious. Your father warned me you were. He even suggested you should be carrying out trade negotiations instead of him."

"I shall be, eventually, as Queen Elsa," the princess replied demurely. "Although we all hope and pray that day is many years distant yet."

"Indeed, we all do," Weselton agreed. "Your father is a good and honourable man. Though inclined to be pushy about cod. I offered to discuss red herrings instead, but no, it has to be cod."

Elsa was unable to keep a small smile off her face. "Thank you, Your Grace."

"Now, please continue," the duke said. "You were talking about the cathedral, I believe?"

"Of course. Arendelle Domkirke is the largest and oldest church in the kingdom, dating back to 1181, though the present stone structure was built in the 1550s. In fact, it was declared a cathedral before it was actually built."

The duke blinked behind his large round glasses. "I'm sorry—maybe your English is in error. Before it was built?"

Elsa nodded. "The original wooden church burned down, several times, and nearly a century passed before it was finally rebuilt, some time after being designated as the cathedral."

"Really? Er, I see. Most… um, unusual. Well, as we are here, shall we enter?" the duke asked as the carriage drew to a halt.

"Oh, we've arrived already?" Elsa asked, looking around nervously. During her lecture, she had barely even been aware that they were travelling, let alone of who might be looking at her. But now she suddenly realized that she was sitting up on an exposed barouche, in the middle of one of the biggest squares in the city. Dozens of people were looked up at her, talking among themselves and pointing. She felt frozen to the spot, unable to move or even look away.

Then she felt a warm hand on her shoulder, and a warm body press against hers.

"Are you feeling all right?" Anna said in a low voice, almost directly into her ear.

Elsa turned around and smiled. "I am now," she said. She took a deep breath, and looked over at the duke.

"After you, Your Grace," Elsa said in English.

"No, after you, Your Highness, I insist," he said, courteously gesturing.

"But you are our honoured guest," Elsa replied.

While she didn't understand the words, it was clear to Anna what was going on. "Youngest first!" she exclaimed, hopping out of the carriage and breaking the impasse. Elsa stared at her for a couple of seconds, then burst out laughing.

"In that case," she said in Norwegian, "it's my turn now!"

Weselton looked rather confused for a moment, then smiled, and alighted last. At Elsa's guidance, the three of them, followed by two guards, headed to the front doors, and entered the gloomy interior.

"I'm afraid it's not all that impressive inside," Elsa said, gesturing around at the relatively plain walls.

"It's not St Pauls, but there's some rather splendid stained-glass over the altar," the duke commented, peering ahead. "Might I?"

"Do you like stained glass, Your Grace?"

"Oh, it's fascinating stuff," he replied. "We lost a lot under Henry VIII and Cromwell, unfortunately, but England's in the middle of a stained glass Renaissance, if you will."

"Shall I call the bishop?" Elsa asked, and was relieved when he shook his head.

"I doubt I would follow his explanations," the duke said. "You wait here. Let me take a closer look."

"What's he doing?" Anna asked, looking on as the small peer pottered around the altar, examining the windows closely.

"He likes the windows," Elsa said. "I'm sorry for all the English, but Father told me to be nice to him."

"He seems nice to me," Anna commented.

Elsa sighed. "Negotiations are not going well. Father says he's not budging an inch about export quotas. At least he's leaving soon."

"But that won't be good for the kingdom, surely?"

The blonde girl picked at the carved wooden decoration on the pew. "It might be better if he leaves and never comes back. That way no one would know what I am. That I'm a witch."

"Oh, surely not!"

Elsa sighed. "I think he already suspects. When he kissed my hand that first day, I saw suspicion in his eyes. And he's seen how I never take my gloves off, even for meals."

"Is that not done?"

"No, it's rather a serious breach of etiquette," the princess said in a flat tone. "Nor can we claim I have a nasty rash or anything, as he's seen my hands."

"I'm so sorry about that, you know," Anna said in a quiet voice.

"Oh, no, you've apologized already, and I've forgiven you! I know it wasn't your fault! And if you hadn't been holding my hands, the duke would have kissed a lump of ice. So really, you helped me. You really did. I just panicked, that's all. It always gets worse when I'm scared or panicked. That's why Father says I need to control my emotions."

"He's coming back," Anna said, spotting the white-haired man approaching.

"Were they interesting?" Elsa asked in English.

"Oh, fascinating," the duke said. "I suspect some of the glass comes from Murano. Quite rare these days, especially so far north. The altar was also most interesting. Some lovely carved stone."

"I'm afraid our humble cathedral cannot compete with the grand Gothic edifices of England," Elsa said as they headed out of the church after the duke had finished examining the interior.

"Oh, by no means, but I do appreciate the simple, honest Gothic of the early styles. Too much ostentation can distract us from our purpose in coming, can it not?"

"You make an interesting point," Elsa said, not willing to admit that she seldom set foot even in the castle chapel. They passed through the main door and headed down the steps.

"Feed the birds, lass?" came a voice.

"Have a care, old beggar!" one of the guards cried, stepping in front of the group with his hand up.

Elsa turned, seeing an old woman seated on the steps, surrounded by pigeons and seagulls, and feeding them crumbs from a small bag, a dozen or so of which were tied around her waist.

"It's all right," the princess said. "She didn't offend. Go about your business, ma'am."

Then she felt a gentle tug at her sleeve.

"Elsa? Might we wait a moment?" Anna asked.

"Uh, yes, if you like," Elsa said, puzzled. She watched as her maid trotted over the old woman, startling some of the birds, which flew up and around them. The lady smiled as Anna came up to her.

"Come, would ye like to buy a bag o' crumbs? Feed the little birds, show them you care. The young ones, they're so hungry, their nests are so bare. All it takes is two pennings from ye."

Anna fished out a couple of coins and handed them to the old lady, who smiled, and handed her a small bag.

"Thanking ye kindly, for sure, my lady," she said, bowing her head.

"Don't you recognise me, Mor Fugle?" Anna asked.

The old woman peered at Anna curiously. "My… my lady?"

"I'm not a lady," Anna said softly.

The bird woman's eyes opened wide. "A… Anna? Little Anna? What happened? I thought you were dead!"

Anna smiled. "I'm not dead—I almost was dead, but the princess saved me!"

"The princess?"

Anne gestured to Elsa. "I'm living in the castle! I'm a maid there now! I'm serving the princess! See, there she is!"

"What? The princess!" the woman gasped, and started to struggle to her feet.

Elsa hurried over, her hands out. "No, no, please! Don't get up! Anna, who is this? Do you know her?"

"I don't know her real name, no one does. I think she's forgotten it. Everyone calls her _Mor Fugle_, Mother Bird, or just the Little Old Bird Woman," Anna said. "She comes to the steps of St. Olaf's each morning, selling crumbs for the birds." She straightened up and looked over at the princess, whose expression was unreadable. "I scare could afford a bag before, not before now, but I would sometimes sit here with her, and help her sell her crumbs. She never selled—sold—much, 'coz people don't really care much about birds, mind."

"That they don't, dearie," the old woman said. "Bless your heart, Anna. You always were such a kind girl to an old woman like me." She gestured up to the façade of the church, up at the carved images around the cathedral. "You know, I reckon that each time someone shows they care, all these saints and apostles up there, they're smiling inside. You can't see it on the outside, coz they're made of stone an' all, but they're smiling inside. That they are…."

"Yes, you said that before," Anna said with a happy smile. "All the time." She opened the bag, and scattered a large handful as the birds that had been wheeling in the sky started swooping down to feed.

Elsa stood on the steps of the cathedral, looking at the scene in front in front of her, thinking of the times she and her family had come to the cathedral. The princess vaguely remembered seeing this tiny, frail old woman, sitting on the steps, when her family went to services here, but she had never paid any attention to her. Now that she thought about it, however, she realized that the old woman had always been there, rain or shine, in the heat of summer and in the frigid chill of winter. But she had never noticed her poverty, her ragged garments and unkempt hair. She had always tried to see as little as possible, to isolate herself in her own thoughts, her own world, and pretend that the people watching her did not exist. But they did, regardless of where her gaze fell. And when she was queen, she would no longer be able to keep her gaze away, even from the poorest. That was her duty. Regardless of how afraid she was. Anna had shown her that, had opened her eyes.

She turned, gesturing to her driver. "Bring my purse."

He took it out from the carriage and handed it to her with a bow.

"Mor Fugle?" she asked gently. The woman looked up at her, startled, fear on her face.

"Hi… hi… highness?"

"How much for a bag?"

"Twa… two pennings, m'lady."

"I'll take them all," Elsa said, opening the drawstrings to her purse, and pulling out a fistful of shiny gold coins. "Every bag you have."

The old beggar's eyes went as round as saucers, then she immediately prostrated herself on the steps in front of the princess.

"My princess! You do me much honour! Let me kiss your feet!"

"Oh, please, no, you don't have to!" Elsa gasped, jumping back.

"Mor Fugle! Please, sit up! It's only Elsa!" Anna cried. "I mean, it's only the princess! I mean, she's only a girl, like me. You don't have to be afraid of her, she's my friend."

"Your... friend? Your friend, Miss Anna?"

Elsa smiled. "Yes. Her friend. Won't you let us buy your crumbs?"

The old woman sat up and pulled herself together. "Thanking ye ever so very much, m'lady princess," she said, quickly untying every bag from her belt, and handing them over to the princess with much bowing and bobbing of her head.

Elsa passed her the fistful of coins, but the woman shook her head. "Nay, tain't near that much, m'lady!"

"Take them anyway," Elsa said, dropping the coins into the woman's lap. "Take them, and feed your own family as well."

"Oh, blessings of St. Olaf be upon you!" the beggar cried, prostrating herself again. "Long live the princess! And blessed be ye kind, generous heart!"

"Come, Anna," Elsa said as she gathered up the bags of crumbs, her face pink. "Help me feed the birds."

"Of course!" Anna cried, picking up the rest. She opened one, and scattered the crumbs in a wide arc. Another dozen seagulls swooped down, cawing as they fought for the largesse. Elsa laughed, and threw a large handful in the air, as high as she could.

"Ahem."

Elsa turned to see the duke standing there, wiping crumbs off his head. Her heart seemed to stop. "Oh! My most sincere apologies, Your Grace," she quickly said, curtseying. "I am so very, very sorry!"

"I… er, that is…" the duke stammered, taking his glasses off and giving them a quick wipe. Then he put them back on, and smiled. "Might I help?"

Elsa blinked. "Help?"

"With the birds." He held out a hand, and Anna, guessing his intention, quickly passed him a bag, which he opened, and started throwing crumbs with gay abandon. "I haven't done this since I was a boy!" he cried. "You there! That was Miss Pigeon's bit, not yours! Back away, sir! Back away, I say! Here you go, Miss Pigeon, here's a large handful just for you!"

Astonished, Elsa watched the starched, stuffy duke fling handfuls of stale bread around, looking happier and more animated than she had ever seen him.

* * *

But eventually the last of the crumbs had been thrown, and Anna turned back to the little old bird woman. "Wow, thank you. That was such fun."

"Oh, no, dearie," the old woman said, her eyes moist. "You and your friend have given these old bones such joy, such hope. You have become such a lady. Your father must be so proud."

"I'm glad you're happy," Anna said, carefully ignoring the mention of her father. That was an issue she tried to pretend didn't exist, shoving it right down at the back of her mind whenever she thought of him. She didn't want the princess to know she still had a real family, and she didn't want to think about how her father would be coping in her absence. The few times she had considered that, she decided she didn't want to know. Although, despite her best efforts, there was a minor, niggling concern, which was one reason she avoided thinking about him as much as possible.

"Come, Anna," Elsa called. "We have a few sights to see yet. Goodbye, Mor Fugle."

"Blessings on you, Highness," the woman called. "The birds are so very grateful for your generosity."

The three of them climbed back into the carriage, and were soon heading away. Their next stop was the small museum that Elsa's father had recently opened, inspired by a visit to the Ashmolean in England in his youth, before Elsa was born. The duke pottered amiably around exhibits of Viking history and the introduction of Christianity, peered up at the portraits of various members of the royal family, but said little. This was followed by another church visit, to the Fortun stave church, which the duke admired briefly, and finally the purported burial site of Jarl Àrnadalr, marked by a massive standing stone with ancient Norse runes carved deep into its face.

By now it was getting late in the afternoon, and the barouche was wending its way back through the cobbled streets of the town to the castle. Anna, relaxing beside the princess, found herself thinking back on what a truly wonderful day it had been. Possibly even the best day of her young life. To spend so many hours with her friend, away from the castle and court etiquette, treated by both Elsa and the duke as a noble lady, enjoying the deferential treatment of all who encountered them… it was a dream come true. She had in fact pinched herself several times, just in case it really was a dream.

She glanced over at Elsa, who was deep in animated discussions with the duke. Elsa almost seemed like a different person when she was talking to someone about science or history. Anna had noticed the change often that afternoon. The princess would be shy and awkward and clearly ill at ease greeting the various officials or members of the public, but once she was able to start talking about the facts, the history, the stories she knew so well, she completely loosened up. In those cases, it was getting her to shut up that was the hard part, Anna thought with a slight smile.

Suddenly she was startled by an exclamation from the princess.

"What is it?"

Elsa held her hand up as she spoke briefly to the duke in English, then turned to Anna with a strange smile on her face. "Well, my dear Anna, it seems that entirely thanks to you, Arendelle might succeed in our negotiations with Britain."

"Wait, what? Me? What did I do?" Anna gasped.

"The duke was scheduled to leave on Friday, and he told me now that he was going to recommend to King William that no increases to cod import quotas be made. However, after seeing the care and love the nobility of Arendelle offers to its humblest citizens—these are his words—Lady Anna's friendship with a beggar and her respectful treatment of her have forced him, he says, to reconsider his priorities."

"What do you mean? I mean, what does he mean?"

"The duke intends to stay for another week, to try and hammer out a deal that will make both sides happy."

"Wait, what? He's going to be here for another week?"

Elsa nodded, a distant expression on her smooth, alabaster features.

"But that's amazing!" Anna cried. "Another whole week with you!"

The princess smiled. "That, at least, will indeed be most welcome."

Then the duke said something, and Elsa started talking to him again. Anna wished she spoke English, so she could tell what they were saying, but it had been as much as she could do to learn the simple phrases she had used on the duke—after prevailing, with much begging, on Aslaug to teach her, as Hilde, not at all to her surprise, had proved to have been distinctly exaggerating her own abilities in that direction.

But she didn't mind being left out. Her heart was skipping, soaring, wheeling in the sky like the aurora itself. Another week! A whole other week! It was incredible, amazing, fantastic—Anna was running out of superlatives. She sat back in the carriage and marvelled at her good fortune as the wheels rattled over the cobbles.

They came out into the main square, reducing speed to a slow walk to get past the crowds. Anna's gaze flitted over the people there. The toffs in their finery, elegant ladies on their arm, sweeping along. They would catch her eye and nod their heads respectfully; the golden royal coat of arms on the deep purple carriage, if nothing else, signifying the importance of its passengers. The policemen, who had been so dismissive of her before, now stood and saluted. Even the beggars stopped and stared, gazing at her and her companions. Anna was thoroughly enjoying the respect and attention.

Then her heart stopped, and a feeling of nausea came over her. Limping along in rags that were hanging in tatters off him, a battered tin begging mug in his hand, his hair straggly and greying and his face thin and pinched, was her father. She stared in horror at the abject sight, unable to tear her eyes away. Some middle-class merchant shoved him aside, causing him to stumble and drop his mug, which rolled away from him, empty, clanging noisily. He scrambled after it, then as he caught it, his eyes met hers, and opened wide in astonishment. His mouth dropped open and he tried to move towards the carriage, but a policeman cuffed him, sending him sprawling to the ground, where he lay moaning, reaching out a hand towards Anna as the royal carriage carried his daughter and the princess back to the castle.

"Who was that?" Elsa asked as the carriage rumbled along. "Do you know him?"

Anna hesitated, then shook her head. "No, no I've never seen him before," she said in a small, nervous voice, not meeting the princess's ice-blue eyes.

Unable to take her eyes off him, Anna stared back in horror as they passed along the causeway. She breathed more easily as the gates of the castle clanged shut as they passed through, cutting her off from the outside world, and her old life. But try as she might, she could not shake the pitiful image of her father, shuffling along with a begging cup, alone in the world. Or the look of sudden hope and joy that had flashed into his eyes when he had recognised her. And she had spurned him, rejected him; slammed the door in his face when he reached out for her, his only remaining family….

.

* * *

**KNOWTES FOR THIS CHAPTER...**

I wasn't sure whether I wanted to end this chapter here, or at the next clear finishing point. As it turned out, it would take too long to get to the next one, and I don't want to delay any more. I could skip through things faster, but I don't want to rush things: I want the characters and story to develop organically, with lots of little scenes that help establish the characters and what they are like, rather than plunging headfirst towards climaxes. So as it's already over 6,000 words, and would be more like 9,000 otherwise, I've ended it when Anna's had a shocking realization about her father…. I could have chopped bits of this chapter out, but I've already kept the tour of the city to the bare minimum, holding back on my temptation to add a lecture from Elsa about ancient Vikings, for example. But in the meantime, here are some other lecture notes…

The House of Oldenburg-Àrnadalr is the semi-invented royal house I have had Elsa be a member of. The House of Oldenburg itself is a very real ducal/royal house, counting many of the royal families of Europe among its various branches, including those of Denmark, Norway, and Sweden. As well as Prince Philip, who is a member of its Schleswig-Holstein-Sonderburg-Glücksburg branch. Aren't you glad I only went with the one hyphen? I think Elsa is, too. And, incidentally, the soundtrack title _Heimr Àrnadalr_, if you aren't already aware, is Ye Olde Norse for "Home Arendelle."

"But me no buts" uses a literary device common from the 16th to 18th centuries that I think should be revised. It basically means "don't want XX." You can also, apparently, find it used in _Fiddler on the Roof About to Fall Off and Break His Neck if He Doesn't Watch His Footing While Fiddling_.

"Eg heiter Anna" is Norwegian for "I'm called Anna" and "Kjekt å treffe deg" is "Nice to meet you." Please don't ask me to pronounce these. After all, you won't hear me anyway….

A "barouche" is a type of carriage that was popular in the 19th century. It is a four-wheeled, shallow vehicle with two double seats inside, arranged so that the people on the front seat face those on the back seat. It was drawn by a pair of high-quality horses and was used principally for leisure driving in the summer. I chose this type as something suitable to convey a princess and a duke about in (if it's good enough for the British royal family, it's good enough for Arendelle's).

Widow Capet was the nickname given to Marie Antoinette in her final years in prison. The "Capet" part comes from the traditional French royal dynasty, the Capets (starting with Hugh Capet, the first King of the Franks). While the dynasties changed (to Valois, then Bourbon, then Orleans), all subsequent kings of France were descended from Hugh. Marie Antoinette herself, as I'm sure many of you know, was not French herself, but Austrian: her nickname, given by those many who did not like her, was "L'Autrichienne" or "The Austrian Bitch." Her mother (Maria Theresa) loved to marry her many daughters off to various European royal households, cementing Austria's power through marriage. Hence the famous-ish saying, _Bella gerant alii, tu felix Austria nube __– __Let others wage war; thou, fortunate Austria, shall marry_ (which predates Maria-Theresa by roughly three centuries, showing it was a long tradition…).

Red herrings refer to kippers, smoked herring, cured in brine which turns the flesh reddish. They are known for their pungent odour, strong enough to draw both hunting dogs and readers alike off the track….

All the details about the name of Arendelle are taken from its Norwegian namesake, Arendal, which is from the Old Norse form _Àrnadalr_. The first element is the genitive (possessive) case of ǫrn, 'eagle' and the last element is dalr, meaning 'valley' or 'dale'. However nothing else about the Norwegian Arendal is similar to Arendelle. The construction date for the castle is taken from Bergenhus Fortress in Bergen, as Bergen inspired the town we see in the movie. Kastellet ved Sjøen is a name of the oldest tower in the Rosenkrantz Tower complex in the Bergenhus Fortress, and I think it makes for a more poetic name than just "Arendelle Castle." The remodelling comment is designed to explain why the interior seems so relatively modern. This sort of remodelling, I should add, was extremely common. Always providing, of course, that the family had the cash to spare….

Similarly, the details of Arendelle Domkirke, or Arendelle Cathedral, are plagiarized… um… copied… from the details of Bergen Domkirke. The Bergen cathedral is indeed dedicated to St. Olaf, and the facts about him I have stolen from Wikipedia are also as stated. However, at this period in history Bergen Cathedral still retained its rococo interior: that was stripped back to the original medieval walls in the 1880s, but I have decided that Arendelle Cathedral never went rococo: plain and humble is the way they would go, I think. Incidentally, a cathedral is called that because it's where the throne (_cathedra_—that's Latin for "chair") of a bishop is. Above the cathedral in rank is the basilica (named after the very first churches, built in Roman basilicae, or public court buildings), and above that is the major basilica or archbasilica. There are only four of those (in the Catholic church), and while St Peter's is one, it's not actually the most important: that is the Archbasilica of St. John Lateran, the official seat of the Bishop of Rome (a nice bloke called Francis).

Must… not… waffle….

The old lady seated on the steps of the cathedral is taken from Mary Poppins. Her song, "Feed the Birds," has given me the name of this chapter. It was also, apparently, Walt's personal favourite Disney song. Her name, "Mor Fugle," is just the Norwegian for "Mother Bird." While I haven't mentioned it, Anna does of course get paid for her work as a maid. I'm not entirely sure at this stage where she keeps her earnings (in a bank? Under her mattress?), but considering she gets room, board, and clothing for free, she's not doing too badly, at least considering where she's come from. The main reason I haven't mentioned it, of course, is that Anna's motivation for doing this is not about money and I don't want her to appear to have mercenary reasons for being with Elsa.

A "penning" (not a typo for "penny") was the basic unit of the Danish currency system. 12 penning = 1 skilling, 16 skillings = 1 mark, 6 marks = 1 rigsdaler and 8 marks = 1 krone. The Wikipedia article on Norwegian currency only mentions skillings, 120 to the rigsdaler, and since in Denmark it was 96 skillings to the rigsdaler (16 x 6), which is sort of roughly not _too_ far from 120, and had further smaller denominations, I think it would make sense that there was a coin below the skilling (which is really a shilling). Selling a bag of crumbs for a shilling, as I had her before, would be too much.

I know "Weselton" isn't the duke's actual name. But it's acceptable to refer to "Duke/Earl/Etc. of Wibbledybottom" as just "Wibbledybottom" (well, not when you first meet him, or if he outranks you—but don't worry, most if not all of my readers outrank a fictional peer) so instead of saying "duke" all the time, I've done that. I thought of giving him a family name, and referring to him by that, but realized it might be confusing. Oh, and "Cavendish Castle" does not exist (checking, I find it's actually a Canadian building centre chain. The similarity is _entirely_ coincidental). I thought about making the duke an expy of the senior duke in Britain, the Duke of Norfolk, but since he lives in **Arundel** Castle, that would definitely get confusing…. (And it's quite possible "Arundel" and "Arendal" share the same linguistic roots.) And of course Jarl Lothbrok is blatantly stolen from _Vikings_. But he was a real person, so it's not actually stealing.

The Ashmolean is a famous museum in Oxford, one of the oldest in the world, named after Mr Ashmole in the same way as the Smithsonian is named after Mr Smithson. Museum namers really ought to be more creative. Mind you, MS Word Spellchecker wants me to change the name to the "Semolina Museum." Somehow I _don't _think that's an improvement….

Anyway, while I do have a chunk of the next chapter written, I have neglected poor Susan in my _Monsters vs Aliens_ story for too long, and must get back to her for a spell. In the meantime, feel free to speculate on what will happen next, leave any comments or critiques you like, or just point out some typos I missed….

Reply for FE: Thanks for your comment. Whatever Corona may be in the Spanish Main, it definitely isn't the one shown in "Tangled." It's nowhere west of Germany at most. Check out the very informative website "Finding Corona" for more details.

[Addendum] Okay, for those of you watching _Once Upon A Time_'s current season - I was shocked by the revelation in the latest ep. that Anna wasn't a princess, wasn't Elsa's sister, because she was Gerda the housekeeper's daughter. Only... the writers stuffed that up GRANDLY and made Elsa and Anna's mother be called Gerda! Wall, meet head. **BANG!** Ow, that hurt...

[**Edited**: 30 March 2015. I am finding all sorts of minor editing snafus...]

[**Edited**: 22 April 2015: Changed the price of the crumbs to match the later price, and a few other minor stylistic changes.]


	16. The Cold and Distant Stars

**16\. The Cold and Distant Stars**

[Sorry for the huge delay. I didn't have any free time to write on holiday. Anyway…. **Last time on ****_Living Flower_**: Anna, dressed as a lady, and Elsa showed the Duke of Weselton around the city. They encountered the old birds lady, and Anna impressed the duke with her compassion for the less fortunate. It was a lovely day for all concerned—except that as they were returning to the castle, Anna saw her father, who, without her to bring in money, has been reduced to begging with a tin cup in the streets….]

* * *

"So... had a good day playing with the princess?"

Anna glanced over as her roommate came in and lay down on the other bed. "Fine," she said in a distracted voice, thinking about her father.

"Oh good. It was fine. Wonderful. You get to leave the castle and have fun all day and it was _fine_. Glad to know you found it so thrilling."

"Okay, it was better than fine," Anna replied, wondering just how she herself would classify the day. Absolutely perfect in every way aside from its end, which put a downer on the entire day? But she couldn't say that. She wouldn't.

"You sound really enthusiastic," Hilde noted, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"It's just that… just that… uh, I met the Little Old Bird Woman today," Anna said, avoiding the truth. "She reminded me of my old life, before I came here."

"What? Mor Fugle? Is she still alive?"

"You know her?" Anna gasped. She stared at Hilde. "You _do_ know her!"

Hilde's face flushed scarlet, and for a moment Anna thought she would hit her. Then the older girl sighed. "Yeah, I know her," she admitted sullenly. "I mean, everyone knows her. It's not like I was a beggar or anything. Coz I wasn't!"

"Nor was I!" Anna retorted. She looked over at Hilde, suddenly realizing something she had subconsciously always known. "But you were, weren't you?" she asked gently. "What did you sell?"

There was a long silence, then Hilde sighed. "Wa'ercress and flowers. There. I told you. So what?"

Anna nodded knowingly. "I knew lots of girls who sold 'cress. I used to, for a coupla' years. Then my father wanted me sellin' lucifers. Said there was better money in 'em."

"Maybe there was," Hilde said. She sighed again. "Sure wasn't none in 'cress."

"So… so how'd y' end up here?" Anna asked. She'd asked Hilde the question several times before, but been rebuffed each time. But now the older girl just stared at her, her eyes unfocused.

"One summer's day we… well, I thought I might try my luck selling to the castle. I snuck in, tried to find the kitchens, got lost, and… encountered the princess."

"The princess! What happened?" Anna asked breathlessly.

Hilde paused. "She… they took me in. Gave me a job. Never been outside since."

"See, I keep telling you she's kind," Anna said.

"Oh come on! They didn't give me a job here because they're kind! They gave me a job because of what I saw!"

"What you saw?" Anna gasped. "What did you see?"

Hilde's eyes narrowed. "You know what I saw. I know you know. This castle can't keep secrets, not for long. You must know. The Ice Princess's witchcraft!"

"It is not witchcraft!" Anna shot back. "It's… it's magic!"

"It's unnatural," Hilde retorted. "It's why we were taken from our parents, kept here in this castle!"

"Elsa'd never do that! Never!"

Hilde shrugged. "Maybe she wouldn't, but her parents would. Kaisson would. The captain of the guards would. Anyone who… who sees her curse can never go free. All to keep the princess's secret."

"You're lying!" Anna shouted. "You're lying because you're jealous!"

"I am not jealous!" Hilde spat back. "Jealous? Of you?"

"You are so!"

"Am not!" Hilde wrapped herself in her blankets, burying her head under them. "So there! Go to sleep and don't talk to me again!"

Anna lay still, listening to the sounds of the old wooden castle as it creaked and groaned, the heat of the day being sucked away by the cool night air. Familiar, reassuring sounds. But there was also another sound, faint and muffled, but one she knew all too well—the sound of a young girl crying quietly to herself.

* * *

"Elsa, darling, there you are."

The young princess turned at the sound of her father's voice, and closed her book.

"Good afternoon, Pappa," she said, rising to quickly curtsey. "Were you looking for me?"

"What are you reading, min elskede datter?" he asked, gesturing at the book Elsa had put aside.

Elsa blushed. "_Legends of the Trolls_."

The king raised an eyebrow. "Fairy tales for children? That's not like you. I had expected you to be reading something more… appropriate."

"Anna likes it," Elsa said, then went pink as the king looked hard at her.

"Ah, Anna…. We do have her to thank for persuading the duke to remain an extra week," he said slowly. "But really, your mother and I both feel that you're getting too close to this young maid. It's not appropriate, Elsa."

"I'm not doing anything wrong!" Elsa retorted.

"Perhaps not, but it's important to also never give the appearance of doing anything wrong," the king told her gently, sitting down opposite his daughter.

"But there's nothing wrong with liking your lady's maid," Elsa said, starting to feel confused.

The king looked awkward, and pulled at his moustache. "Sometimes… a young princess can, uh, get too… er… close to her maid. She can develop certain… ahem… feelings…."

"You mean I can't be friendly with my maid?"

"Friendly, yes. Friends… would not work out. Nor would anything… closer."

"Closer? Whatever do you mean?"

Her father went slightly pink, and quickly changed the subject. "You're getting older quickly now, Elsa. Some day soon we'll have to start thinking about finding you a suitable husband."

The princess gasped. "A husband? I don't want a husband!"

"You're still young, Elsa, but you're fast becoming a woman. Just earlier, the duke was remarking on how beautiful you have become."

Elsa shuddered. "You're... you're not going to make me marry him, are you? Offer him my hand in marriage to try and cement the deal?"

"Good Heavens, no!" her father gasped. "Elsa, you really do overthink things at times! Of course we wouldn't make you marry him! When you do marry, it will be a suitable nobleman of your own age. I have my eye on the son of the Duke of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha, handsome young Albert. Although his uncle hopes to marry him off to Britain's Princess Victoria, so it could be difficult. Still, he's not the only cod in the sea, so to speak. We'll find you someone."

"Oh, all this talk of marriage! Why do I even have to marry anyone?"

The king sighed. "Elsa, we've been over this. Arendelle needs an heir. You're our only child. You know what will happen if you don't marry, and have no heir."

There was a short silence. "You know what could happen if I marry, don't you?" Elsa finally said in a quiet voice, holding up her gloved hands. "I could kill my husband by mistake…."

The king moved forward, and took them in his own hands. "When the time comes, you'll have learned to control this power—this curse. I know it. See? You can touch me, and I am not harmed."

"That's because I'm wearing the gloves," Elsa whispered.

"Then take them off."

Elsa's eyes widened. "Are… are you sure?"

He nodded. "You're my darling daughter. I trust you."

Slowly, Elsa peeled off one glove, then the other, setting them on the sill. Then she held out her hands stiffly, willing them not to freeze, terrified of the prospect of hurting her father. He grasped both of her pale hands, with only a short intake of breath at their chill. He held them briefly, then dropped them with a gasp as the coating of ice started spreading to his fingers.

"I'm sorry!" Elsa wailed. "I tried!"

"No, no, don't worry," he said awkwardly, rubbing his hands as Elsa burst into tears. "I'm sure you'll be able to cope better when you're older. You'll learn. You always learn so well, Elsa. Your governesses are full of praise for your abilities."

"But that's mathematics! Natural philosophy! Languages!" Elsa cried. "Facts, not emotions! Being a queen, a ruler! Not being… being a wife, a mother. How can I ever be a mother? A mother who can never dare hold her own child—that's what I'll be! Why!?"

"Why what, dear?"

"Why am I your only child? Why didn't you have any more? Why didn't you try and have another? Or were you afraid all your children would be cursed like this?"

The king stepped back, his face drawn and sad. He passed his hand over his hair, and sighed. "Elsa, darling, your mother and I have never told you this, but… we did have another child, almost. A few years after you were born, we were blessed again, but… it was not to be."

"Wh… what happened?" Elsa stammered, almost afraid to know.

"Something went wrong with the pregnancy," the king said in a low voice. "We lost the baby." He swallowed, and looked at his only child. "And so your mother can never have another."

Elsa took a step back, stunned, her head reeling. "I… I..." She was lost for words. So there would never be another prince or princess, never be another who could carry on the House of Oldenburg- Àrnadalr. It was her duty, her responsibility. If she could not learn to control her curse, she would bring her family to extinction.

The scared princess stared out the window with unseeing eyes, gripping the sill as the room slowly filled with gently drifting snowflakes, and tongues of frost crept out from under her hands.

* * *

"Pappa is extremely happy with you, you know," Elsa commented dryly the next day as Anna brought the princess her tea tray.

Anna blinked. "Really? Me?"

Elsa nodded. "He's very pleased that the duke is staying another week, to ensure a trade agreement is struck. And the duke keeps talking about you, too. He seems to have been quite taken with your compassion and openness."

"Oh. Ah, well, I was just trying to be nice."

"You were just being you," Elsa said, smiling. "Which means someone everyone can't help but love." She raised an eyebrow, smirking, a twinkle in her eye. "Even a crusty old duke. Who knows—perhaps he'll want to marry you?"

"Marry me!" Anna gasped, nearly spilling the tea. "I can't! He's an old man!"

"You'd be a duchess, though," Elsa said, her smirk getting wider. "Wouldn't that be worth it?"

"Of course not! I don't want to get married! And certainly not to some old English duke!"

Elsa laughed. "Don't worry. I was only teasing. You're not a real lady, so you're quite safe."

"Are you safe?" Anna asked, holding the princess's tea. "What if he wanted to marry you?"

"Oh, I'm quite safe. It seems he's married anyway. Ah, thank you," Elsa said, accepting the cup. She sighed. "Yes, I'm safe. My father will find someone suitable. A prince at the least. Probably from the Holy Roman Empire. Bavaria, Corona, maybe Prussia."

"Wait, what? You'd not get to choose who you married?"

Elsa shook her head. "Whom. And no, people in my position seldom have the luxury of marrying for love. We don't get many choices in life."

"Nor do beggars like me," Anna commented quietly.

"Ah, but you're not a beggar any more, are you, Anna?" Elsa said with a slightly teasing smile. "You're a maid in the royal castle, trained in court etiquette and manners. In a few years, you'll have handsome young gentlemen lining up and begging for your hand in marriage. You've not the person you were before, not at all."

Anna caught sight of herself in the mirror, dressed in the elegant, sombre green clothing of the upstairs maids, her face clean and pink, her hair neatly brushed and braided. She was almost unrecognisable—yet her father had seen through the façade in an instant. How much had she really changed? Was everything she had learned, everything she had tried to become, just a thin veneer, no more truly her than the fine gown she had worn when touring the city?

"I wish I could believe that," she admitted. "I've learned so much, come so far since you saved me. I'd never want to go back—the past is in the past. And yet…."

"And yet what, Anna?" Elsa asked gently.

"Sometimes I still wonder if it isn't all a dream," Anna sighed, thinking about her father. "Sometimes I don't feel like I really should be here, like I don't belong here—I'll never be better than what I am."

"Don't say that, please!" Elsa cried. "We can all change our fates! We have to!"

"Even you?"

"You think I want to marry some man I've never met, and don't love? That I want to be queen and have to be responsible for the happiness of everyone in Arendelle? To be constantly surrounded by servants and courtiers and nobles, barely able to relax? And to always, always fear what would happen if the world learned what I really am?"

Anna blinked in surprise at the strength of the princess's outburst, and Elsa looked at the floor.

"Forget it," the blonde girl said. "I need to get dressed for dinner. Come and help me."

* * *

Yawning from lack of sleep, Anna entered the princess's room a few days later to carry out her duties. She only had half a mind on them, however, as she was still thinking about her father, and how far he had fallen. With her mind elsewhere, she neatly tidied up Elsa's clothes, sorted out the room, then finally drew back the curtains.

"Is it morning already?" came Elsa's sleepy voice.

"Yes, and has been for some hours," Anna quipped. "As you would realise if you weren't so fond of your soft bed."

Elsa narrowed her eyes and glared at the younger girl. "You're mighty mouthy for a _maid_," she growled.

Anna swallowed, and quickly curtseyed, staring at the floor. "I'm so sorry, Your Highness. I spoke out of turn. It… it won't happen again."

"Oh, Anna, no, it's my fault!" Elsa said quickly. "I shouldn't have snapped at you. I didn't mean it. Please, forgive me. I'm… I'm just a little weary from all these negotiations, having to conceal my curse from the duke all the time."

"Oh, no, no, you're right, I suppose I was out of line. I shouldn't never have said that! Not to a princess!"

Elsa smiled. "No, you really should have. Because it's true. And because you shouldn't worry about having to tiptoe around my feelings."

She swung her legs out of bed, and padded across the floor to her friend. "Anna, let's make a pact. We'll always be honest with each other. If you think I'm acting all high and mighty and privileged and princessy, tell me—please, do. I don't want to be aloof and untouchable."

Anna gave the princess a smile, but inside she was still rattled. She didn't doubt for a minute that Elsa was very fond of her, but there was always this gap, this gulf between them. No matter how close they grew, they could never be truly equal. She could never truly call Elsa her friend, much as she might want to.

"And I don't want any secrets between us," Elsa added. "If you ever need someone to talk about something, well… I'll be here for you."

"Se-secrets, what secrets?" Anna asked, her heart skipping a beat.

"Oh, just anything," Elsa said lightly, eyeing the younger girl carefully. "It's just that you seem a little distracted lately. Is everything all right with the other servants?"

Anna nodded. "Fine. The usual."

"The usual? And what would that be?"

The redhead shrugged. "Gossip, backbiting, comments, people not keeping their mouths shut, other people keeping their mouths too shut."

Elsa laughed. "So, just like the Storting, then?" Her expression changed, becoming more serious. "There's no resentment about… about your new position, is there?"

"Some," Anna admitted. "Not too much, as it's only temporary. Some of the maids think I shouldn't have been given this job. That it's not my turn, not my place."

Elsa's face darkened. "I shall be the judge of whose turn it is. Servants must know their place."

"Sorry..." Anna mumbled.

"Oh, not you, Anna!" Elsa gasped. "Your place is here, by my side! You're my friend!"

"Thank you," Anna said, her face going pink. She looked up at the taller girl. "Highness, might I ask… might I ask a question that might be, uh, rather impertinent?"

"Impertinent?" Elsa repeated, looking puzzled. Then she smiled. "Of course, feel free—and if I don't want to answer it, I simply won't, and we'll forget you even asked it. Deal?"

Anna grinned back. "Deal. In that case…." She swallowed, and took a deep breath. "Why… why do you want to be friends with me?"

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"I mean… you're a princess, and I'm a… a beggar girl. We're so different. From utterly different worlds. What could you ever see in one like me?"

Elsa paused, looking at Anna for so long that the younger girl was sure that she was not willing to answer the question.

"I'm sorry," Anna said, bowing her head. "I shouldn't oughta have asked you, I knew I shouldn't."

The blonde girl shook her head. "No, no, I'm not offended, not at all. I'm just trying to work out what you meant. Are you afraid that I just consider you a toy, a plaything of the hour? A passing interest, forgotten and discarded in another month?"

Anna shook her head. "Uh, no…."

"Because that's not it at all," Elsa said. She moved over to Anna, and reached out to hold her hands. "Sometimes it's hard to know why you like someone. There are some people you just know you are going to get along with, even if you are totally different people on the outside—just something chemical, really. As if you were meant to be together. I think that's part of it." She paused. "But… there's something else. When I look at you, I see the person I want to be. The person I should be."

"Wait, what? I don't understand. You shouldn't be me! You're a princess!"

"And you're a wonderful, kind, considerate, generous person, who sees the best in everyone, and draws out that goodness. Even in people who have little enough themselves," she added, lowering her eyes.

"Wait, what? You don't mean you? You're full of goodness!"

"I wish that were true, Anna. I've hurt people before. I've ruined lives, thanks to my power." Elsa sighed. "Why can't I just live quietly on my own, far away, not hurting anyone?"

"Because… because I'd miss you," Anna ventured.

Elsa smiled. "And I would miss you too, Anna dear," she said, holding the younger girl's hand. "I'm glad you're here, with me."

Anna smiled. "I'll always be with you," she said, then her smile vanished as she thought of her father, starving in the streets. It was summer now, with the wisteria starting to bloom, but winter in Arendelle was never far off, and she knew that he would never survive until spring, not in his condition, not out on the streets begging. Perhaps she could ask Elsa if he could be allowed to work in the castle? But then how could she face her, admitting that she had lied about being an orphan? They would kick her out, that was for sure. After all, it was only on finding out she had no one that the royal family had permitted her to remain. No, she couldn't do that. Nor did she want her father sharing her dream—his presence would quickly sour it, turning it into a nightmare. She didn't want him back in her perfect life. But did she even have that choice?

Elsa had not noticed her change of expression. She was staring at her hand, grasping Anna's. She had not even realised what she was doing, but she was touching someone else, without gloves. She quickly snatched her hand back before anything could happen, before her fear caused her to hurt someone else yet again. "Come, I need to get dressed."

"Of course, Highness," Anna said, blinking. "Right away."

Elsa allowed her friend to help her into a dark blue-purple dress, then sat as Anna did her hair. The redhead remained silent the entire time, which puzzled Elsa—Anna was normally extremely chatty and cheerful when attending her in the mornings.

"There, that should do," Elsa said eventually, adjusting a lock of her platinum-blonde hair that Anna had missed. "Very nice. Now, my gloves, please."

There was no response. Elsa glanced up at Anna's reflection in the mirror. The redhead appeared to be staring out into space, lost in thought. "Anna!"

The maid started. "Highness?"

"Where are my gloves?" Elsa asked, holding her bare hands out.

"Your gloves? Aren't they where you left them?"

"Where _I_ left them? You were supposed to tidy them away!"

"Oh! I… where did I put them? Uh, they must be… wait… no, here they are—no, no, wait…."

"Anna! For heaven's sake! I need my gloves! You know how important they are!"

"Oh, wait, I remember—I must have put them out with the laundry by mistake! I'll go get them!"

"No! Just get another pair from the drawer in the dressing room!" Elsa said, her voice raised as a freezing gale whipped her skirts.

Anna's face went white, and the young girl cowered away from the princess, her eyes wide and full of fear.

"Yes, Your Highness! At once, Your Highness!" she gasped, scurrying away as Elsa stood there, her face full of anger at having lost her temper. She slowly unclenched her fists, hearing the ice coating them crack.

"Anna, I'm sorry!" she called. "I didn't mean it! Anna!"

There was no response.

"Anna? Forget the gloves!" Elsa called. She listened, and suddenly heard a low, soft sob. "Anna?" she called softly, venturing into the dressing room. She saw the young redhead sitting hunched over in a corner, grasping a fresh pair of gloves in her pale hands, weeping.

"Anna! Please! Don't weep! I'm not angry, I'm really not! I'm sorry I got a bit upset earlier! It's the duke, not you!"

The maid shook her head, not looking up. "It's the dream…" she muttered to herself. "The dream's going to end. It has to. It's only a dream, and dreams are lies. They're not real."

"Anna, whatever are you talking about?" Elsa asked, stooping down.

"I wish I never had to wake up," Anna whispered. "But I do. I do…."

Elsa gently took the gloves from the other girl's unresisting hands and slipped them on. Then she stroked her friend's hair, soothing her. Anna started at the touch, her eyes flying open and looking straight at Elsa.

"My princess! I'm sorry!" she gasped, scrambling to her feet. "I'm sorry—I was… I shouldn't have been… I'm sorry!"

"Anna, seriously, whatever is the matter?" Elsa asked, her ice-blue eyes full of concern.

But the other girl just shook her head. "Nothing, Highness. I'm sorry for bothering you. Will that be all?"

Elsa nodded. "Thank you Anna. You may take the rest of the morning off. Go and get some rest."

The redhead gave a quick curtsey, and left. Elsa stood there, looking at the closed door, her brow slightly creased. The younger girl was acting increasingly strange—there was no doubt about it. She was distant and absent-minded, and more than once Elsa had had to remind her about something very basic. Today she had been worse than ever, committing several major errors that would have thrown Mrs Gerdason into fits had the old housekeeper seen them. Several times over the past few days Elsa had tried to ask her friend what the matter was, but Anna had only given short, non-committal responses, repeating that there were no problems. But it was painfully obvious to the young princess that something was wrong. But she had no idea what. All she knew was that the change had taken place after their trip out into the city. But what could have happened out there to affect her so?

* * *

Anna was wandering through the castle corridors, late at night. She was wearing a gorgeous dress, fit for a princess, and could feel the weight of a tiara on her head. It seemed at once rather strange, but at the same time perfectly natural, as if she had worn this many times before. She was going somewhere, she knew, but she couldn't remember where. Or… was she looking for someone? That was it. She had to find someone, but she couldn't remember exactly who. But it was vitally important that she find them.

The corridors, normally so cheerfully painted, were dark and haunting, and seemed twice their normal size. Everything seemed larger, looming over her, dwarfing her. Out of the window, she could see the northern lights blazing brilliantly in the sky, illuminating the land with a sickly green hue, casting an unearthly light through the windows, which flickered along the walls like ghostly candles. The castle was empty, completely deserted, and there was not a sound to be heard, save for a distant wailing sound, like a great giant far off in the distance, rising and falling in the wind as the aurora shimmered in the sky.

Anna started walking faster, trying to get to wherever she was supposed to be going. But the corridors and chambers never seemed to end. She passed through room after room, all deserted, all dark save for the pallid green glow from the sky. The aurora was getting brighter, and freezing draughts were constantly blowing around her, feeling like cold, dead hands grabbing at her.

She broke into a run, going along corridors, up staircases, through grand rooms, along more corridors, and then suddenly found herself outside the door to Elsa's bedroom. This was where she was meant to be—somehow she knew it. She slowly lifted her hand to open it. But the door wouldn't open, and the handle was freezing to the touch. She gasped as the entire door froze over, the ice spreading rapidly, covering the entire corridor as a bone-chilling wind suddenly howled past her.

"Anna! Anna!" came a voice.

The young maid gasped. She knew that voice. "Grandmamma! Is that you? Where are you?"

"Anna! Anna!"

"Grandmamma! Please, I can't see you! Are you in the castle?"

"Anna! Anna! Anna!"

The voice of the old woman grew louder and louder, and suddenly the door swung open, blinding Anna with light.

"Anna! Anna!"

The voice was coming from inside the room. Anna stepped over the threshold, then the door slammed shut and the light went out, plunging her into pitch blackness.

"Grandmamma! What's going on?"

A feeble glow flickered in one corner, the light from a short crude tallow candle standing on a low wooden table. A dark figure was seated on a three-legged stool beside it, silhouetted by the light. As her eyes adjusted, Anna gasped as she realised she was back in her old home, the hovel she had grown up in, deep in the poorest part of town.

"Grandmamma?" she asked nervously, venturing towards the figure on the stool. "Why are you here? What's going on?"

"Anna… Anna…. Please, help me…."

The girl laid a hand on the figure's shoulder, and then she gasped as it slowly turned its face on her. It was not her grandmother after all, but her father. His eyes widened on seeing her, but then, as she watched in horror, his face slowly sunk in on itself, the cheeks hollowing out, the eyes becoming rimmed with darkness, the skin shrinking and growing pale, thin like paper stretched over his bones, leaving him a desiccated corpse, like the dead child she had come across one bitter winter's morning.

"Anna…" her father gasped out of cracked lips, reaching out a long, scrawny arm towards her. "Why? Why? Look what you have made me! Why?"

Anna screamed as her father grabbed her dress and ripped it off, revealing her beggar's rags beneath. He clawed at her, his eyes burning into hers, glowing red as the young girl shrieked in terror.

"Anna! Anna! Wake up, will you?"

"No! No, Father! No! Let go!"

"Anna, it's me! It's Hilde! Focus!"

Anna blinked, and gasped. She wasn't at home after all—she was still in the castle, and Hilde was shaking her. She reached up and grabbed the older girl, reassuring herself with her solidity.

"Oh, Hilde! I—I was…. It was… it was horrible!"

"Another nightmare?" Hilde asked, shaking her head. "Get a grip, girl. This is getting ridiculous. You're having them almost every night now. What the hell's going on?"

Anna drew her bedclothes up around her, shivering. She could feel the sweat on her skin evaporating in the cool night air, and took a deep breath. "Nothing," she muttered.

"It's not nothing," Hilde said, lighting the candle. "Look, I don't care if you have nightmares every night. That's your problem. But when you scream and cry and wake me, that's when it becomes my problem. So what the hell is wrong?"

"I'm just…. I just had a dream about my father."

"Your father? Didn't sound like you were happy to see him…."

"Well, I… I don't know. He was dying… because of me."

"Oh come on, you didn't cause him to die," Hilde said, snorting.

"He's not—uh, I'm not saying that," Anna said, quickly correcting herself. She looked over at the older girl, seeing her face in the candlelight. "Can I ask you a question?"

Hilde rolled her eyes. "Since when have you asked my permission? You usually just go ahead and talk, even if I'm clearly not listening."

"It's a personal question," Anna said quietly. "You don't have to answer it if you don't want to."

"Yeah, and I probably won't, so why bother asking?" Hilde looked over at her roommate, seeing her anxious face, and her expression softened. "Nah, never mind; ask away."

"Do you… are your… do you miss your parents?"

Hilde stared at Anna, her face a blank mask. Then she dropped her gaze. "No."

"Are they dead?"

"Don't know, don't care." The older girl moved closer, and stared at Anna. "Why are you asking this?"

"Uh, no reason."

"Like hell there's no reason," Hilde snarled. "What's going on?"

"I… Sometimes I think… I think this is all just a dream, and one day I'm going to wake up and realise I'm back home, back being a beggar girl. Because it's what I am, what I should be, and I've been trying to cheat my fate, be something I'm not…."

"What the merry hell are you talking about, girl? Your life is what you make it. We're not put on this Earth to suffer, despite what the priests say. Grow a spine, for Heaven's sake, and stop moping about!"

"I'm not moping," Anna shot back. "I'm…. You wouldn't understand."

"Try me," Hilde said.

Anna looked at the dark-haired girl, and found herself wanting to confide in her, tell her all her secrets, her betrayal of her father, the lie on which her new life was based. It would feel so wonderful, so free, to no longer have to pretend to be an orphan, alone in the world. To be who she really was, without pretence, without deceit. But… the price was too high. She would not pay it. She would not….

"Hilde… I'm… I'm… tired," she said, sighing. "I think I should try and sleep some more. Sorry for waking you. And… thank you."

The older girl blinked in surprise, and for a moment looked like she was going to say something, but then she shrugged and headed back to her own bed.

"You better not scream and cry in the night any more," she muttered.

"Don't worry. You'll never hear me cry," Anna said quietly. She snuffed out the candle, plunging the small room into darkness. Then she tried to focus her mind on calming thoughts. But none came. Instead, she kept seeing her father's thin and haggard face, the desperation and disbelief in his eyes as he stared at her in the royal carriage.

She was afraid to go back to sleep, afraid to encounter her father in her dreams again. Afraid of the overwhelming guilt that was her constant companion, whether she was awake or asleep. She lay back on her pillow, staring out the window at the night sky, filled with distant stars, and wishing they could give her answers. But they simply stared back at her, offering no comfort, no wisdom; just cold, uncaring light without a trace of warmth.

* * *

The castle lay still and dark under the night sky, with just a few lamps still burning. The moon glowed white on the roofs, and there was not a person to be seen. But there was a strong wind blowing, rustling through the trees, bringing the scent of rain and the promise of a summer storm.

A side door in the outer wall creaked open, and a small figure crept out. Anna stood there for a moment, looking back up at the castle, tears in her eyes. She wrapped her cloak around her tightly against the gale, though the swirling storm in her heart was not so easily shut out.

"I'm sorry, Elsa," she whispered. "The dream is over. I have to wake up, I have to be strong, just turn my back and shut the door." She sighed, wiping a tear away, and looked up at the towers of the castle, looming beyond the wall. "It's funny how some distance makes it all seem so small, makes my life there seem so remote. Oh Elsa, I wish I could stay with you, living happily ever after like in the fairy tales you gave me. But life isn't a fairy tale. I have to let my dreams go, let my life with you go…. I have to… let it go…."

The young girl let the door latch shut, and then headed slowly out along the concourse towards the mainland, not looking back. In a few moments she had disappeared from sight, swallowed up by the darkness among the warren of roads and houses.

High above the sleeping city, beyond the reach of wind and storms, the aurora had come down from its northern home, illuminating the land with its other-worldly glow as it cast its heavenly veil over the cold and distant stars.

.

* * *

**KNOWTES**

To be honest, there's not a lot of Knowtes to write about this chapter. This and the next, which will be up very soon (as in a day or two) are really one long one, and I was going to post them as such (and I know some readers like longer chapters—so hopefully two in quick succession will be a sort of substitute) but chapter endings dictate themselves, and I can't go against their wishes. This chapter ended here.

This was another hard chapter to write, in that it is a series of vignettes, which could go in essentially any order (and I did a lot of swapping), but need to show how Anna is becoming increasingly guilty about her father, a guilt which eventually leads to her own "let it go" moment—when she lets her new life, her dreams, go. That's one of the reasons it has been so long coming, but the main one is that I expected to get lots of time to write on holiday, but managed to get precisely none. I don't take the "relaxing on the beach" type of holiday, but rather try and cram in as much in a day as I can. And now that I'm back I'm busy with work….

Anyway, enough about my personal inadequacies in terms of regular updates. Time for some lecturing….

"Min elskede datter" is Norwegian for "my darling daughter." "Datter" is "daughter" (I love these similarities). As usual, should there be anyone reading this who can correct my use of Norwegian, please sing out. I would hate for "min elskede" to have, for example, the nuance of two lovers. However, since the phrase "Min elskede datter" certainly does exist, I think I am safe using it here.

"_Legends of the Trolls_" is not a real book (that I know of). But it's a book that might exist, and I wanted to have Elsa reading about the trolls.

The "son of the Duke of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha, handsome young Albert" is, of course, Prince Albert. He was indeed earmarked by his uncle for Princess Victoria, leading to one of the great royal love stories: Victoria was passionate about him, and utterly devastated by his early death. She never stopped mourning him, wearing black for the rest of her long life. Albert himself, from all accounts, was a man ahead of his time, eager for reform and modern science, and who knows what would have happened if he had lived longer. He'd make a great match for Elsa, but that would never really happen. Incidentally, I'd love to see what would happen if Elsa and Victoria, who are essentially the same age, would meet. It won't happen in this story, however.

I was going to have Elsa "stressed" from the negotiations, but it didn't seem quite old enough a word. And indeed, research shows that in the mental (or even medical) sense, it wasn't used like that until over a hundred years after Elsa is speaking. So I have changed the word, and hopefully given it more of a period air. "Mouthy," incidentally, might seem modern but actually dates back to the 1580s. I love the _Online Etymology Dictionary_…. At any rate, Elsa's irritability in this chapter is, as explained, due to the pressures of having to maintain a façade with the duke all the time. It's just bad timing that it comes as Anna is doing some deep soul-searching of her own….

We see the castle wisteria in full bloom in the movie at Elsa's coronation, which presumably takes place very soon after her 21st birthday. Why it is so late after her father's death I have no idea, and I suspect the writers of _Frozen_ aren't too clear on it either (Americans are often rather clueless about royalty and the peerage in general—you see things like "Sir Jackson" when it should be "Sir Peter" for example). Elsa would have been queen the instant her father died, and delaying the formal coronation for three years is extreme. I can only explain it as a formal taking of actual power from her regent, rather than a coronation as such. Anyway, we also know that the movie takes place in July, so this chapter is set a few weeks before Elsa's birthday. I hope to feature Elsa's birthday—with luck, the Happy Ending will come before then. And I already know what present she's going to get….

There are two small side doors beside the main gate of Arendelle Castle. Anna used one of those. The phrase "the cold and distant stars," which I have used for the chapter title, is something I read somewhere, but can't remember where, and doesn't seem to be from a poem or anything. But I like it, so it stays.

The next chapter, "The Stolen Child," will be up before the end of the year...


	17. The Stolen Child

**17\. The Stolen Child**

[**Last time on** **_Living Flower_**: Driven by guilt, Anna has snuck out of the castle to go back to her father, to try and save him.]

* * *

Hilde reluctantly opened her eyes to face another dreary day. The overnight storm had blown itself out, and the summer sun was shining through their small window, filling the narrow room with light and warmth. Sitting up, she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, then splashed some cold water on her face.

"Time to rise and shine, sleepy-head," she called out.

There was no answer, and she glanced over at her roommate's bed. To her surprise, Anna was gone.

"Up already?" Hilde muttered to no one in particular. "That's unusual for you these days. At least you managed to do it without waking me, which has got to be a first."

She shrugged. Anna was always a little queer, and especially so recently. So she put the matter out of her mind, and quickly got dressed.

That was when she noticed the envelope sitting on the table, propped up against the water-jug. On the front, it said "To Her Royal Highness, Princess Elsa, from Anna" in an elegant, though somewhat stilted, hand.

"That's the royal stationery. What's the silly girl doing pinching that?" Hilde muttered, picking it up. It was not sealed, so she carefully opened it, unfolding the single sheet of paper inside. Her eyes grew rounder and rounder as she read it, then she carefully folded the letter up and returned it to the envelope.

"Oh, Anna, you poor, stupid fool…" she whispered, shaking her head sadly.

* * *

Elsa entered the Small Dining Room for breakfast, seeing her parents already seated, and Kaisson, standing like a marble statue in his regular place by the sideboard.

"Good morning Father, Mother," she said, dipping in a slight curtsey. She took her seat, but instead of starting to eat her smoked salmon, she just fiddled with her fork, pushing it around on the plate.

"Elsa, darling, what is it?" her mother asked. "Why aren't you eating?"

"It's Anna," Elsa admitted. "She didn't attend me this morning. Erin was there instead. She told me she might be ill."

"Oh, I do hope not," the queen said. "She has been looking rather pale and wan of late."

Elsa nodded. "She told me the other day that she wasn't sleeping well. So I told Erin to tell Mrs Gerdason to give her all the time she needs to rest and recuperate."

"That's nice of you, dear," her mother said, gently tapping her soft-boiled egg with her ivory spoon.

"And I might go up and see her later," Elsa added casually, a forkful of fish on its way to her mouth.

Her mother's spoon clanged against the plate. "To her room? In the servants' quarters? Now, really, Elsa, there's no need for that. I'm sure it's just a summer cold or something. Best let her rest in peace."

"But—"

"The morning messages, Your Majesties," Kaisson said, accepting a silver platter from a footman and bringing it to the table. "Ah. There is also a letter for you, Princess."

Elsa blinked. "Oh? From whom?"

"The maid, Anna, I believe," the butler told her.

"Anna!" Elsa snatched up the letter. "I thought she was ill. What's she written me a letter for?"

"I could not say, Highness," Kaisson purred. "Perhaps you should read it…."

Elsa looked at the letter, puzzled. It had her name on the front, in a flowing, smooth hand. Elsa had had no idea that Anna had been practising her penmanship, and was impressed how well it was progressing. Smiling, she opened the letter and started reading.

Then her heart suddenly froze into a solid block of ice….

The king, reading an article in the _Arendelle Herald_ about the trade negotiations, felt something soft and cold brush against his cheek. He put down his paper and glanced up, then gasped. The air was filled with snowflakes, just hanging there, drifting randomly with the air currents. He immediately looked over at his daughter. Elsa was sitting completely still, staring sightlessly at the note she was holding. The paper and her hands were completely covered in sharp shards of ice, which were growing rapidly as he watched.

"Elsa!" he shouted, causing the queen to look up from her own reading.

"No!" Idun sprang up from her chair, sending it crashing to the floor, and rushed over to the princess. "Elsa! Darling! What's the matter?" She threw her arms around her daughter, hugging her tightly. The snow hanging in the air suddenly fell to the floor, and the ice on Elsa's hands dropped off and shattered on the table.

"Mamma!" Elsa cried, holding out the note. "Anna's gone!"

"Gone? Whatever do you mean?"

"She's gone! She's left me!" Elsa suddenly dropped the note and jumped up. "Excuse me!" she muttered, and fled the room.

"My goodness," Agdar said, looking after his child. "Kaisson, whatever is the meaning of this?"

"I do beg your pardon, Your Majesty," the butler said, looking concerned. "I had no idea the note would affect her so. Mrs Gerdason informed me that young Anna's roommate, Hilde, had found it in their room this morning. It was addressed to Her Highness, so I included it with the morning messages. I do apologize for upsetting her. I shall have this… accident… tended to immediately."

"Damn the accident," Agdar spat. "What the devil was in that note?"

"As to the contents, sir, I could not say," Kaisson replied.

"I could," the queen said. She picked the note up and brushed off the rest of the ice. "Dear Your Highness. Please forgive me for what I am about to do. I am so terribly ashamed to confess that I have been a liar. I have been living a lie these past months. Your royal family has been so terribly good to me, taking me in because they thought I was a poor orphan. But in truth, I am not. My father is alive…."

"Her father?"

Idun raised a hand for silence, and continued reading. "My father is alive, and I did not tell you because I was afraid I would have to leave the castle and go and live with him again. I very much liked living in the castle with you, and very much enjoyed the time we spent together. You have been so very, very good to me, Highness, being my friend, and I have told you only lies in return. On the day we toured the city with the Duke of Wellington—I think the child means 'Weselton'—I saw my father on the streets, a most wretched and pitiable sight. He is doing very badly without me, and I know I have been a very wicked daughter for abandoning him like this. God will punish me for breaking the Ten Commandments, and for lying. Please forgive me, but I must go to him, and help him. I am so very sorry. I so very much wish I could have stayed here with you for ever. Maybe one day soon, if God wills it, I shall be able to return and beg your forgiveness, and things can be as they were. Ever your faithful servant, Anna."

Idun looked up at her husband, who stared back at her, confusion on his handsome features.

"So the maid had a father after all?" he asked. "But why would she imagine that was the only reason we allowed her to remain?"

"I'm afraid Anna has been mistaken about a great many things," the queen said softly. Her eyes narrowed. "Including her relationship with my daughter."

* * *

"Anna! Anna!"

Elsa flung open the green baize door to the servants' quarters, and raced up the narrow wooden steps, stumbling several times. Gasping for breath, she dashed into the attic corridor, and stopped. Which one was her friend's room? She had no idea. The princess threw open a door at random, then another, and another, before spotting the leather-bound copy of _Norwegian Folktales_ she had given to Anna all those months ago. The maid had left it behind, lying on the bed, almost as if she wanted Elsa to find it, take it back.

"Anna!" she called, knowing it was futile. Furious, she hurled a blade of ice into the wall where it shattered, spraying down onto the floor, then she slumped down on the maid's narrow, hard bed, her mind in a whirl and tears streaming down her face. Why? Why had her friend left her? Why was she all alone again? Why did everyone leave the Ice Princess?

Elsa took a deep breath. This wasn't like her. She knew she wouldn't find the answers moping in self-pity. There was only one person who could help her now. Jumping up, she clattered down the narrow stairs to the lowest level, rushing along the passageway and bursting into the housekeeper's room. Seated at her desk, Gerdason dropped her pen in surprise, and quickly rose and curtseyed.

"Highness? How may I serve?"

"Mrs Gerdason, what's happened?" Elsa asked between pants. "Why did she leave me?"

"She? Oh, Anna. As to that, Highness, I'm sure she didn't want to. I know she was very happy here, and spoke very highly of you. However… we all thought she was an orphan, alone in this world, but it turned out she has a family, a family that needs her."

"I need her," Elsa said, rather petulantly. "We were happy together—why'd she suddenly leave me?" Then her expression changed to one of fear. "Do you think… had she become afraid of me?"

Gerdason shook her head. "Perish the thought, Highness. She's just worried about her father. She's probably just gone to make sure he's all right, take him some money perhaps. She'll be back in a day or two, don't worry."

"You really think she'll be back?"

"Of course. She knows you need her, Highness."

"I do… I really do. I need her…."

* * *

_It's been three days_, Elsa thought, staring out the window of the castle dining room at the courtyard beyond, as if she might spot Anna walking back to the castle. _Three days, and she's still not back_.

"Elsa, darling, you really need to try and eat more."

"I'm not hungry, Mother," the princess said, idly stirring her fiskesuppe, which was by now very cold.

"Are you worried about the negotiations with the duke? Your father has commented you seem distracted and confused. You don't seem to be applying yourself to your studies either."

"I don't give a fig about the negotiations, or my studies," Elsa muttered under her breath.

"Really, Elsa! That's not like you. What's on your mind?"

"You wouldn't understand, Mother," Elsa said.

"I certainly won't understand if you don't tell me," the queen retorted. Then her expression cleared. "Ah, it's Anna, isn't it? Don't tell me you're still worried about the maid?"

"I told you you wouldn't understand," the princess replied under her breath.

"Really, Elsa, she's just a maid. Servants come and go. I did tell you not to get too close to her."

"She is not just a maid!" Elsa snapped. "She's my—she's my friend!"

"Your friend? Elsa, really! Your father talked to you about that. It's not fair on either of you to try and be friends with your servants."

"I don't care what you're going to say," Elsa replied. "She likes me and I like her. And that's all that matters."

"But it isn't, darling. See, she's left. She's gone back to her family. Who she really belongs with."

"She belongs with me. It's not fair," Elsa said, willing herself not to cry in front of her mother.

"Not fair for whom, dear? It's not fair for Anna to be kept from her family, surely?"

"But… but… I miss her," Elsa said, feeling the tears start despite her efforts.

"Now, now, Elsa, dry those eyes," the king said. "Have courage. A princess does not let herself go like this. Stiff upper lip and all that. We have another meeting with the duke this afternoon, and—"

"Oh, bother the duke!" Elsa spat. "Stubborn old fool! Everything's about how it affects Britain! Britain, Britain, all the time! I hate the place! It's not as if we could ever export enough cod to hurt the British fishermen! It's such a little bit to them, and so much to us—why can't he see that?"

"Elsa, really! Do control yourself! This is most unlike you. I trust you'll be more circumspect this afternoon?"

The blonde girl took a deep breath, ashamed of her outburst, and counted to ten in Latin. Then she nodded. "Yes, Father. I apologize. I'll control myself. I'll do as you request. And I won't mention the maid again."

The king smiled. "That's all I ask. You'll be a fine queen one day, my dear. You just need to remember that monarchs can never let their feelings show. For the sake of their people."

"I know. You always say that. Please, may I be excused?" Elsa asked, putting down her spoon.

"But you haven't touched a thing," the queen said.

Elsa shrugged. "I'm not that hungry. I think I should go to my room and read some more on the cod market. Maybe find a reason why the duke should listen to us…."

"Very well. You are excused," the queen said, looking over at her husband as Elsa hurried out of the room. "What are we going to do about her, Agdar? She's acting strange lately. And she's not controlling her curse well these days. Are you sure she should be attending the negotiations?"

"She'll be fine," the king said airily. "She'll be over this maid in another few days. Don't worry—it's just a passing phase."

* * *

The princess stood in her tower room, looking out over the city. Even her telescope gave no clue as to where Anna might be. She would spend hours peering through it, hoping to spot a familiar red-headed figure. But while she saw numerous people with the right hair colour, none of them were her friend. And each morning, she would wake, hoping against hope to see Anna's familiar figure drawing back the curtains, and each morning she would sink a little deeper into disappointment.

Discouraged, Elsa wandered the halls, brooding. Everything seemed different; the castle seemed so much emptier, lonelier. She just walked aimlessly, not really sure where she wanted to go, through the gallery of paintings, the Great Hall, the chapel, and the dusty ballroom where balls had never been held in her memory. It was pointless, but still better than sitting in her room staring at pages of books she was too distracted to concentrate on, or wasting her time creating architectural designs for fantasies that would never come true. But all the grand empty halls, where the loudest noise was the ticking of the clocks, just made her loneliness even more acute.

While she had not been really conscious of heading there, Elsa eventually found herself standing outside Anna's room in the attic. At this time of day, she knew no one would be around anyway, least of all the missing maid. That didn't make her feel any less isolated, however. She had not spoken more than the bare minimum for days, now. There didn't seem to be any point. But now she was alone, and as close to Anna as she could get, she felt the need to speak, to say something, almost as if her friend could hear her.

"Anna, I wish you could come out and play," she whispered. "We used to be best buddies, and now… and now you've gone away. I wish you'd told me why, told me what your secret was. We could have worked it out together. I was right here for you—if only you'd let me in."

She slumped against the door, not wanting to open it—that would spoil the fiction, the illusion that Anna was just on the other side, listening to her. Instead, she thought back to some of the fun they had had, especially that first afternoon in the garden when she had created Olaf, and sent him and Anna waltzing together. That was the first time she had ever seen Anna so carefree, so joyous. And one of the few times anyone had ever been that relaxed and happy around the Ice Princess.

Elsa sighed, leaning her head back, too lonely and depressed to cry. "If you come back, Anna, everything'll be better. We'll play together again. I promise, like we did before. We could do whatever you liked. Do you want to make another snowman? I can do that for you, whenever you like…."

She removed a glove, and made a motion with her fingers. The gloomy corridor was filled with light as her magic conjured up snowflakes, which she directed to form a tiny snowman, sitting on the floor. But it had no arms, no eyes, no nose. It was just a crude copy, mocking her, and she made an angry gesture, sending it flying into the wall.

"Highness! I'm sorry, I didn't realise you were in here!"

Elsa jumped up as the familiar form of the old housekeeper entered the corridor and quickly curtseyed on seeing the princess.

"It's been four days now, Mrs Gerdason. You said she'd be back in a day or two!"

The housekeeper dipped her head. "I do apologise, Highness. I was sure she would be back by now."

"We have to find her, get her back! Send out the guards! Search the city high and low!"

Gerdason shook her head. "We cannot force her to return, Highness. We cannot make her a prisoner."

Elsa fixed her with an icy glare. "Who is the princess here?"

The housekeeper inclined her head respectfully, smiling benignly at the phrase, one Elsa had not used to her in many years. "You are, Your Highness. But your royal parents have spoken. There will be no search for runaway servants."

"Oh." There was a short silence as Elsa fiddled with her braid. She looked up at the familiar, comforting features of the old woman, a face she had known all her life, one that was almost as familiar as her own mother's. For as long as she could remember, the clinking of the keys the housekeeper wore suspended from her decorative chatelaine had signalled the arrival of someone who would always drop anything she was doing to protect and comfort the young girl. Even after the princess's freakish powers had begun manifesting themselves in more and more dangerous ways, Gerdason had never shown the slightest fear of her. Elsa suddenly found herself sobbing, letting herself go in a way that she never could in front of her real mother.

The housekeeper moved to gently hug the weeping girl, as she had done many times before. "There, there, my little princess. It'll all be all right. You'll see. You'll see your friend again."

"Are you sure? Really?" Elsa asked, blinking tears out of her eyes. "Please, tell me. Honestly."

"Honestly?" Gerdason knew that the princess abhorred deceit, white lies designed for hollow comfort. "I… I… don't know. I hope so. I do hope she has just gone to visit her father, and will be back soon. But…."

"But? But what?"

"There is, ah, one thing, Highness," Gerdason said reluctantly. "When young Anna first arrived here, she was… she was not in good shape."

"What do you mean?" Elsa asked sharply. "Was she ill?"

The housekeeper shook her head. "Not ill, not as such. She was very skinny, true, but… she… I saw many bruises and marks on her body, Highness. I fear her father may have treated her… badly."

"Badly? You mean he beat her?"

"It… I cannot say for sure, but… it is possible."

Elsa gasped. "And she's gone back to him? Why? Was living with the Ice Princess so much worse?"

"Time has a way of healing wounds," Gerdason told her. "And not just those of the flesh. Anna may have repressed the memories of her beatings, and only remembered the good times. Or she may have convinced herself that they weren't so bad, or… even that they were justified."

"What?" Elsa gasped. "She couldn't think that!"

"Nothing justifies beating a little girl," Gerdason assured her. "But sometimes, people who are abused… don't always see it that way. They feel it was their fault, that they are to blame for angering the other person."

Elsa felt her heart stop. "Do you think… Anna's father is…? Do you think he still…?" She couldn't finish the sentence, couldn't face the implications. And now her friend had gone back to that. Through guilt, perhaps, but also because Anna was such a loving child, despite all she had been through.

Gerdason shook her head. "I do not know. All I know is what I saw. And that Anna has returned to him, and has not come back. For whatever reason."

Elsa's mind was whirling with the significance of what the housekeeper had told her. Had Anna really been beaten? Was this why she had left home, why she had never mentioned her father? With a horrible sinking feeling, Elsa remembered how she had first found Anna, almost dead under the snow. Not because she had no home to go to, but… but because her home was so much worse. The thought sent a chill through Elsa's heart, a stabbing pain in her breast. If something had happened to her maid, to her friend…. If she was hurt…. If she was suffering….

Anger began to course through Elsa's young body, rising swiftly, flooding her frame with intense emotion.

"Mrs Gerdason… please… I have to go…" Elsa gasped, feeling her power begin to manifest itself. She gripped her gloved hands tightly, willing herself to control her curse. But it was no good. She bolted down the corridor, leaving a trail of frost on the floor as her ice shredded through her gloves. Finding an empty storeroom, she held her hands out, directing a blizzard at the wall. At times like this, she knew that there was no hope of trying to control it—she just had to let the ice and snow out, let her curse expend its energy until she was calmer.

If Anna was being hurt, was being prevented from returning…. There was only one choice. If Anna could not or would not come back to Elsa, Elsa would have to go and find Anna. But her parents would never allow her to leave. They would never let her take guards and search. No matter: she would do whatever it took to get them back together again. Even if it meant facing her worst fears.

Because she could not bear going back to being alone.

* * *

Elsa found herself wandering through the castle corridors, late at night. She was wearing one of her gorgeous dresses, and had her tiara on her head. She was looking for someone, she knew, but she couldn't remember who. Or was someone looking for her? She wasn't sure, but she did know she wasn't supposed to be alone. The familiar corridors were dark, spooky, and seemed to loom over her, making her feel like a young child again.

Out of the window, she could see the northern lights, glowing in the sky, casting their sickly green hue over the land. The unearthly light glowed through the windows, flickering like ghostly candles. The corridors were empty, completely deserted, and there was not a sound to be heard, save for a high, distant wailing sound rising and falling in the wind as the aurora shimmered in the sky.

"Elsa!"

The young princess whirled. That was Anna's voice. Where was she?

"Elsa! Come! Elsa!"

"Anna! Where are you?"

"Elsa, please! Hurry!"

"Anna! Anna!"

Elsa started running through the corridors, but the faster she tried to run, the slower she moved. It was as if hundreds of hands were grabbing at her, pulling at her skirts, her hair, anything. Then she heard cries, louder and louder, from people in the distance, and the green light of the aurora changed to the flickering orange of torches.

"Help me, Elsa!" came Anna's voice, somehow right beside her, yet far in the distance.

"I can't find you! I can't see you!" Elsa cried, hearing the other voices getting closer, feeling the heat of the torches getting stronger and stronger. She struggled to run, to move faster, desperate to find Anna. But the torches, the fire, kept coming closer.

"Keep back!" she shouted, creating a great wall of ice shooting up, with her at the top. Then she stumbled, found herself falling, as if from a great height, and crashed to the ground.

Gasping for breath, she looked around, and realised that she was in the Great Hall, and it was decorated for Christmas. But the decorations were all in black, and the tree was dripping with blood. Terrified, Elsa hunched into a ball, shutting her eyes tightly against the horror.

"Elsa! Elsa! Come to me!"

At the sound of her friend's voice, Elsa's eyes flew open. The tree had gone, as had the black decorations. Instead, the Great Hall was filled with snow, heaped in great drifts, the largest of which had a long red stain down its flank, leading in a ragged trail to the centre of the room. Elsa's horrified eyes followed the trail, and then she staggered back in shock. Anna was standing in the middle of the Great Hall, frozen stiff, her hand up as if to ward off a blow from some unseen assailant.

"No!" Elsa hurried over to the frozen girl, to try and help her, but as soon as she touched her, Anna shattered into a million pieces, which tumbled to the floor, then were quickly blown away by a sudden gale.

"No! No! No!" Elsa screamed. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean it!"

Her eyes flew open, and she gasped. Breathing heavily, she sat up, feeling the familiar soft sheets of her bed. She was utterly alone—alone in her large, beautiful bedroom. The temperature was well below freezing, the room filled with tiny snowflakes, just hanging in the air. Elsa grasped her breast, feeling her heart pounding with the terror she had felt. She sat up, trying to calm herself, wishing she could run to her mother's bed like she did many years ago—but that had been discouraged when she was old enough to sleep without a nurse present. For most of her life, the princess had slept alone. Loneliness was just another part of her existence, and one she had welcomed. Until she had realized how much she had missed out on….

Elsa glanced over at her clock: it was barely six in the morning. The summer solstice was near, so the sun was already high in the sky, filtering through the thick curtains. She could not remain one day longer without doing something. She could not put it off any longer—not after the revelations from Gerdason. Not if there was any chance that Anna was unhappy, or hurt.

She quickly made her preparations, before she grew too scared and changed her mind. The first issue was what to wear. She couldn't just wander into the city, into the poorer areas, looking like a princess. No, she would need a disguise. And she had the perfect one, she realized with a smile, thanks to their Sunday afternoons in the stables. Remembering how freeing it had felt to dress in the simple clothing of a serving girl, how easy it was to move without anyone questioning her, she quickly put on her maid's outfit.

Mindful of what Anna had said the first time she had dressed like this, she removed all her gems and jewels, then undid her carefully-plaited locks and tied her hair in a loose ponytail before mussing it up a bit. She took a look at herself in the mirror, and frowned. It still wasn't enough. She still looked too clean and neat, too much like a rich girl play-acting. Opening the window, she scraped up a bit of dirt from the sill, and, shuddering, carefully rubbed it into her face and hair.

Then she checked herself in the mirror again. To anyone's eye she would have seemed nothing more than a poor maidservant, just another of the downtrodden masses. With one exception: her long silk gloves. Anna had once told her that in the real world, no maid would ever be allowed to wear them. There was no choice—not if she wanted to find her friend. Her heart pounding, Elsa slowly removed them, then quickly thrust her hands into the pockets of her apron. Now she looked like the perfect maid—no one would ever recognise her as the princess. She could venture out into the city, free from the stares of others. Free from worry about the world learning that the Crown Princess of Arendelle was a witch. Or so she hoped….

The final thing she had to do was to write a note explaining her absence. "Erin will find that when she comes to wake me later," Elsa whispered to herself, placing the note beside her bed. "Mother, Father, please don't worry about me. I'll be back later today, as soon as I find her. You just don't understand. I need her—I need one friend."

* * *

Feeling freer in her simple dress, and lighter in her heart than she had for days, Elsa left her room and was just about to start down the staircase when she stopped, remembering her disguise. Maids did not boldly walk down the main stairs and out the front door. Instead, she slipped back behind the door to the servants' quarters, and made her way down the narrow staircase, right to the lowest level. Keeping her head down, she walked quickly along the stone-flagged corridors and into the Servants' Hall. There were a number of people there, all hard at work, and she tried to slip past them without being noticed.

"You there! Help me with this!"

Elsa ignored the voice and carried on, but found her arm being grabbed. She spun around, in shock and anger that anyone would dare touch her, then quickly remembered she was supposed to be just another maid, just another anonymous servant.

"What is it?" she asked the maid who had grabbed her, avoiding looking her in the eye.

"Take this to the kitchens right away! And don't spill a drop!"

Elsa suddenly found herself carrying a large bucket of fresh milk. She almost dropped it, not expecting it to weigh so much, but managed to only slop a little over the side.

"Clumsy idiot!" the maid snarled. "Get a move on, before I put my boot up your backside!"

Elsa blinked in astonishment. Was this how maids talked to each other? "Right away, uh…."

"Hilde. Wait. Who the bloody hell are you? You look familiar, but I can't place you."

"Uh, Hanna," Elsa said, shocked at the language, but managing to remember the name she had given Kaisson when the butler had come across her and Anna in the stables that afternoon. "I don't think you know me—I'm new," she added.

"Hanna, huh? Are you the replacement for Anna?"

"I… I suppose," Elsa said, her heart skipping a beat at the thought.

"Good. Because I can't believe she just up and left. What the hell was she thinking, going back to that cruel bastard?"

"Wait, what?" Elsa gasped.

"Her deadbeat father," Hilde told her. "What, she not get enough abuse here to make her happy?"

"Was… was he that bad?"

"From what she cried out in her nightmares, worse," Hilde said darkly. "God damn her! I never imagined she'd ever just leave! And without a word! How could she just leave me?"

"Leave you? Were you her friend?" Elsa asked, suddenly curious.

Hilde scowled. "No. Maybe. She was all right, I guess. Once she chilled out a bit."

"What was she like?"

"Perky. Annoying. She wouldn't stop talking, especially about the princess," the other girl told her. "It was Elsa this, Elsa that, all the bloody time! And calling the princess by her first name, like they were actually friends!"

"Maybe they were…" Elsa suggested.

Hilde raised an eyebrow. "Are you dense? The Ice Princess wouldn't ever have no friends. Least of all a stupid, dirty maid. A silly little girl. An idiot. I… I wish she would come back…."

"So do I…" Elsa sighed, shaken by Hilde's comment about her lack of friends, but trying not to let it show.

"Huh?"

"Nothing, nothing," the princess quickly said. "You wanted me to take this to the kitchen?"

"Oh yeah. Down that way!" Hilde called as Elsa hurried off as fast as she could.

_The Ice Princess would never have friends_? Hilde's words rang in Elsa's ears as the young girl handed the pail of milk over to a kitchen maid, then slipped out the side door, breathing heavily. _No, that's not right_, she told herself. _Anna's my friend. And I'm going to prove it. To everyone. By getting her back, rescuing her from her father. Whatever it takes_.

Elsa looked at her hands. So far they were ice-free, and she breathed a sigh of relief. "You can do this," she told herself, then thrust them back into her pockets before she headed out into the main courtyard, towards the castle gates.

The courtyard seemed huge, and took ages to cross: the princess imagined that any minute someone would recognise her, call out to her, but everyone ignored her. As far as they were concerned, a maid was essentially invisible. Which she was counting on.

Her heart pounding, she found herself standing in front of the main gates, soaring high above her. She had never realized just how big they were, how thick—a solid barrier keeping her safe from the cruel world outside, a world that would see her only as a witch. A monster.

"What are you loitering here for, maid?" came a voice, startling her.

Elsa looked over, seeing a soldier approach. "I… I have an important errand," she stammered, then took a deep breath. There was no going back. I have to do this, she told herself. I can do this. For both our sakes. It's only for today... She straightened up, and looked him in the eye. "Tell the guards… to open up the gates."

The soldier looked at her strangely, then shrugged and headed into the gatehouse. In a moment, a loud creaking told her that the gates were being opened. She stood there, her heart pounding, as they parted, revealing the city lying before her under the morning sun. A city where, somewhere, her friend needed her help.

"Well, Elsa, here you stand, in the light of day. Make one wrong move, and everyone will know what you are…." She felt her hands begin to chill over, and remembered the warmth of Anna's holding hers, how the other girl's fingers would steal around hers to hold them firmly, despite the cold. Whenever that happened, Elsa's ice would always give way to Anna's fire. She needed that fire—she needed her friend to help her retain control.

She took a deep breath, remembering the fun they had had together, the happy face of the snowman she had made with Anna that perfect day in the garden. Elsa clasped her hands to her breast, feeling their warmth. The warmth that filled her, kept her safe, whenever she thought of her friend. She would have to rely on that warmth out there, out in the city.

"Father says to have courage, and I'm trying to," she whispered. "I won't let the fear that once controlled me get to me at all. I need to let it go. Let it go…."

This was her chance to change her lonely world. Her heart pounding, she stepped through the gate, and headed into the city on her own for the first time in forever, in search of a single small girl, the beggar child who was the princess's only friend.

High in the sky, seagulls whirled and called out to each other, gliding on warm currents as they basked in the warm rays of the summer sun, while far below a young girl with pale blonde hair vanished into the crowd, completely anonymous and unnoticed.

.

* * *

**THE FAMOUS (?) KNOWTES...**

The title comes from a poem by William Butler Yeats of the same name, about children being stolen away by fairies. "Come away, O human child! To the waters and the wild / With a faery, hand in hand / For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand." That's the refrain. Loreena McKennitt set it to music and turned it into a rather sweet song.

Paper envelopes date back the 2nd century BC (in China at least), though until 1845, all envelopes were hand-made. "Stationery" and "stationary" are two words loads of people muddle up, but there's an easy way to get them right: "stationery" is stuff sold by a "stationer," who had a station or fixed spot, as opposed to a "peddler," who walked (ped; foot). It also has the same "er" ending as "farmer" and "butcher" and "baker." Anyway, envelopes weren't at all common for normal letters in 1836, but Anna's been pilfering Elsa's royal stationery supplies (and no, Elsa doesn't mind in the least. She has other things on her plate right now…).

Oh, and if anyone's wondering, newspapers were well established by this time in European history. They'd been around for about 200 years by this stage.

Smoked salmon and soft-boiled eggs appear to be fairly standard Norwegian breakfast foods. Any fairly standard Norwegians reading this, please feel to correct me if needed. Traditionally, eggs were eaten with spoons of ivory, horn, or bone, as silver would react to the sulphur in the egg, tainting the flavour and tarnishing the spoon.

Elsa's heart freezing into a block of ice is, I should note, purely metaphorical. It can be hard to use ice metaphors in a story about a girl who can actually create ice and snow.

I had a long debate with myself (I won, but it was close) about whether or not to include the full text of Anna's letter. In the end, I decided that that the pathos, the raw emotion of Anna's guilt, was better presented this way. And it gives her a small voice in this chapter, the first (and last, actually, unless I change my mind) in which she does not appear at all.

I have decided that the Duke of Weselton might as well be an expy or something of the Duke of Wellington, even though they aren't similar in anything other than some of the name, and the general age is sort of right. The "Iron Duke" would, however, be a _very_ formidable negotiating partner. So don't take this too seriously. I'm just sick of the "Weaseltown" joke and wanted something in its place.

You won't be surprised to learn that "fiskesuppe" is "fish soup." Do Norwegians eat anything that isn't fish? I'm starting to wonder….

A chatelaine is a decorative belt hook or clasp worn at the waist with a series of chains suspended from it, and often worn by housekeepers in the 19th century. They were essentially the mark of her rank, as keeper of the keys.

Sunrise in Bergen, the model for Arendelle's streetscapes at least, is no later than 4:15 am in June, and sunset is after eleven at night. Conversely, right about now it doesn't get light until nearly ten in the morning (and sets at 3:30 pm).

I've had a comment by a reader who suggested that the king and queen might be eager to find Anna to make sure she doesn't talk about Elsa's affliction. That's not going to happen for story reasons (Elsa needs to do this alone), but even in "reality" I don't think they'd really be that worried. Wild stories spread by former serving girls probably aren't going to be taken all that seriously. And the person who is most paranoid about Elsa being considered a witch is Elsa, after all. Who, we must not forget, is not necessarily the wisest and most experienced at knowing how people will react. In other words, how a given character feels about a given situation is not always how everyone else feels about it. This story is very much written from inside both girls' heads, after all.

I'm wondering if I've gone overboard with jamming _Let It Go_ and other song references/shoutouts into these chapters. I do try to make sure they are all completely justified in context, and sometimes change the wording a bit to make it a little less gratuitous, but it's just too much fun. Oh, and Olaf's not going to be alive in my story, but I can still use him as the symbol of the bond between the two girls.

Anyway, I gained a lot (for me) of new Followers and Favouriters with the last chapter, and even if people are just using those as bookmarks and might come back and actually read the story one of these years, it's still very much appreciated. As, of course, are actual reviews.

**PS**: It's been brought to my attention (thanks, PascalDragon) that Jennifer Lee has come out and stated Elsa was born Dec. 21st (and Anna June 21st). Born on the winter solstice—how original and predictable for an ice queen…. So why oh why did the ceremony for her to take power take place in mid-summer? The commoners are excited that she's finally of age—except she seems to have been of age for more than half a year. And don't try and tell me the fjord would be frozen over in winter and no one could get there for the ceremony. For one thing, Norway is warmed by the Gulf Stream: even the major fjords don't freeze over in winter. Some minor northern ones do, but Arendelle can't be on a minor (freezing) one as it has a thriving economy—and the backbone of pre-industrial economies along western Norway was cod, a winter fish. If you can't get out in winter to fish the cod, you're just not going to survive as a relatively prosperous kingdom. This just reinforces my opinion that the writers are too concerned with character arcs and drama, and let facts and reason fall by the wayside. I try to make sure both are equally balanced (which probably means both are equally poor…). At any rate, I've never mentioned her birthday in the actual story, so I might just fudge the entire issue for now. Or I could make it Anna's (uncertain) birthday instead.

There's also mention of an idea Lee had that an once-in-a-thousand-years alignment of the planets caused Elsa's powers. Huh? How the hell would that work? And more to the point, why? What has one to do with the other? It was a wise choice to drop that concept. Planetary (or star) alignments as something magical are overused anyway. I have my own ideas for the origin, which will be presented in a later chapter, and draw on the region's history and myths rather than some ass-trological nonsense.

Response for Frostbite: Thank you for your comments. As you are not registered, I cannot respond directly. So I shall do so here.

Actually, you gain the throne, assuming you're the next in the line of succession of course, the instant the incumbent dies (or abdicates). Louis XIV was just four. The last emperor of China, Aisin Gioro Puyi, was only two. Mary became Queen of Scots at just six days old. So Princess Elsa would absolutely have become Queen Elsa when she was eighteen, the moment her father died. What you might be thinking of, and what I made explicit reference to in my Knowtes, is actually having political power as monarch. Child kings (generally) reign but do not rule: regents, whether singular or a council, do that for them. And this is what happens in _Frozen_, despite what the writers might have implied. What the commoners in the film meant by "come of age" is that she has now attained her majority, which means she can rule as well as reign, without a regent calling the shots. That's fine, but calling the ceremony a "coronation," and placing a crown (a tiara really) on her head and thereby implying that that's when she becomes queen, is what I find problematic.

(You might or might not have heard the phrase "The king is dead—long live the king!" This sounds a little silly on the face of it, but actually arose from the idea that the transfer of sovereignty occurs instantaneously at the moment of death of the previous monarch. Of course, not all monarchies are inherited: some are elected to the post, in which case there can be a period without an official monarch. But this definitely does not appear to be the case with Arendelle. There would be no "interrex" or "ruler between kings" here.)

As for the snowflakes, I know what they did in the film. I prefer my reasoning, however, as it not only references the signature snowflake we do see several times in the film, but makes her snow explicitly unnatural, magical.

And I shall see you all (I hope) some time in the New Year, with Chapter 18, "The World's More Full of Weeping"….

[**Posted**: 30th December 2014]

[**Edited**: 30 March 2015]

[**Edited**: 22 April 2015. Fixed a few things, like "it had no arm, no eyes," and rearranged the final bit of Elsa in her room getting ready.]


	18. Like Summer Tempests Came Her Tears

**18\. Like Summer Tempests Came Her Tears**

[**Last time in ****_Living Flower_**: Driven by guilt over how low he has fallen, Anna has run away from the castle to return to her father. Desperate to get her back, Elsa has disguised herself as a maid and set out to find her friend…. NOTE: This is a really long chapter, over 10,000 words. But it really doesn't suit splitting up. So get comfortable - it's going to be a painful ride….]

**[Now with translations of the dialect for non-native speakers at the end….]**

**[Dialect toned down even more.]**

* * *

"Please, Pappa, no!"

Anna crashed to the ground, her cheek stinging from the blow. Once, she would never have shed a tear, but now, having experienced a kinder, gentler world, she was unable to stop herself from sobbing. But that only seemed to make things worse.

"Stop blubbin', yee stoopid bint! Yee must have mar brass!"

Her father stood over her, a cracked leather belt in one hand and a nearly empty bottle in the other. He coughed violently, swaying from the effort, then spat a wad of phlegm onto the grimy floor.

"I… I gave you the money all I have, Pappa," Anna whimpered, raising her hand to shield herself from the fresh blow she knew was coming.

"Liar! Yer holdin' out on me! On your own father, who yee left to starve while yee ran off an' lived the high life in that damned cassil!"

Anna gasped in pain as the belt caught her on the back, and scrambled to get out of range of his arm, squirming against the wall.

"Please, I never meant that to happen!" she cried, her back throbbing. "I told you, I fell asleep by mistake, and woke up there—I never tried to run away! Honest!"

"Ungrateful blewdy brat! Eftor Ah took care of yee, bathed yee, fed yee - this is ha' yee repay me?"

"I'm sorry! I know should have come back sooner—I didn't know! I didn't know!" Anna gasped, scrambling to her feet.

"An' stap talkin' in that fancy way! Wha', yee t'ink you're better than t' likes of t' rest o' us?"

"No, no, of course not, Father!"

He glared at her, then swilled the last of the grog, dropping the bottle on the floor. "Where's the other un?" he muttered, peering around the small, gloomy room through bloodshot eyes. "Thar should be another bottle 'ere…."

"Sh—shouldn't you drink less? You're—" Anna broke off and yelped as he swung at her, ducking his fist.

He glared at her, red-faced and with phlegm dribbling from the side of his mouth. "Yee dare to tell your own father what he kin an' canna dee? Yee mouthy bairn, ya's worse than your ma, ya's! Neeow git! An' tek those bloody matches wi' yee! An' doon't come back until yee'v sold 'em all!"

Anna grabbed her old tray of cheap lucifers and fled outside their small lodging in the decrepit made-down house as fast as she could, the tears streaming. Why was he so angry all the time? What had she done to make him like this?

It hadn't started out that way. After leaving the castle, she had made her way along the familiar paths to her old home, arriving as the first fingers of dawn began glowing in the east. Despite the early hour, her father had been awake, lying on the pile of rags he used as a bed, clutching a thin blanket, and shivering with fever. "Anna, oh me canny wee lass," he had called her then, so gentle, so desperate.

Horrified at what had become of the strong man she knew, Anna had managed to nurse him back to health, using some of her hard-earned money to buy medicines and nourishing broths. Though he had been pathetically grateful to see her at first, as his health quickly returned and he grew stronger, he had demanded she turn over the rest of the money she had made in the castle. Then he would disappear for hours, at the end of which he would always return, reeking of drink, and in a foul temper. Which he would inevitably take out on the girl, while blaming her for everything bad in his life that had happened since she left.

Anna stood in the cramped, dingy communal courtyard and sighed, trying to stop the tears. What was the point of weeping? She had learned that lesson many, many years ago, but now she had gone soft. And why was her father so angry with her? _Why? What a stupid question, Anna_, she told herself. _He's angry because of what you did. It's all your fault, you wicked girl. You abandoned him; then, like the Apostle Judas—or was it Peter?—you denied him when you saw him, out of fear, out of guilt, out of wicked selfishness. So you've got no right to feel sorry for yourself!_

Swallowing hard, she rubbed her cheek, feeling the warmth from the blood pooling where he had hit her. It would turn into a nasty purple bruise soon, she knew from experience. He normally avoided hitting her anywhere visible, because people didn't want to buy from a girl with a battered face. It disturbed them, made them turn away from her even faster. But since her return, he seemed to have not bothered with that, and hit her wherever he could reach.

Still limping slightly from an earlier beating, Anna shuffled down the filthy alleyway, wiping her tears away with a grimy hand. She found herself thinking of her life in the castle, of the times she had spent laughing and playing with Elsa, the fun they had had playing in the snow together. A happiness that, growing up here in the slums, she had never dreamed could exist.

"Stop weeping, you silly girl," she said, scolding herself. "Why even bother remembering happier times? It was always only a dream, an illusion, as fleeting as a butterfly's life. I need to let it go—that perfect life is gone." She sighed, carefully stepped around some broken glass, mindful of her bare feet. "I'm sorry, Elsa. I'm sorry for lying, for running away. Now I'm standing here, in the life I've chosen." She gave a quick sob, unable to stop the tears after all. "And you won't find me—that past is far behind me."

* * *

Elsa's heart was racing, her skin crawling. She was entirely surrounded by people, on all sides, walking to and fro, everywhere she looked. Each time she had been in the city before, it had been with her family, with guards, safe and secure. She had never been so isolated from everyone she knew, so vulnerable. So alone. The young girl kept her hands thrust into her pockets and tried to ignore everyone, tried to see them as she would from her telescope, as far-off, remote, barely even real. The way she preferred other people to be. The way they had to be, to be safe from her curse.

"Out of my way, girl," a man growled, pushing a barrow at a rapid clip.

Elsa gasped and shrank to the side as he rushed past, then felt a wet splash on her foot. She glanced down, and saw that it was now covered in mud from the previous night's summer storm. Suppressing her anger, she pushed through the crowd, trying to get out of the busy town square as fast as possible. She had no idea where Anna lived, but she did know someone who might. Without that precious knowledge, she would never have dared venture out into the city. There was only one person who could help her find her lost friend.

Never having walked there before, Elsa found it a surprisingly long way to the Cathedral of St. Olaf, especially as she had to navigate by glimpses of its green copper towers above the roofs, meaning she frequently took wrong turns. But she eventually arrived, albeit with even more mud on her feet and dress than before, and to her relief the square in front of the cathedral was much quieter than the main town square. She walked quickly over to the cathedral, then, as the doors suddenly opened and people started filing out, stopped and shrank back, not wanting to be caught up in the tide of humanity. A service had presumably just ended, so Elsa waited patiently until there were only a few stragglers standing chatting to each other in the square, then hurried over to the steps, looking for the old beggar woman.

"Mor Fugle? Ma'am?" she called.

"Feed the birds, dear? Just two pennings a bag," came a voice, and Elsa sighed in relief as she turned to see the old woman easing herself down onto the steps.

"Mor Fugle!" she called.

"Hello, little one," the old woman said. "Come, buy my bags full of crumbs."

Elsa shook her head. "I'm afraid I don't have any money."

The bird woman shrugged. "That's all right, dearie. I didnae think ye would from the looks of ye. But… you never know…. I might 'ave a crumb or two for you somewhere, for a pretty wee lass like ye," she added, pulling out a few breadcrumbs from a bag. "G' on," she added, giving Elsa a toothless grin.

Touched, Elsa accepted the small pinch, and, at a sign from Mor Fugle, tossed them to the pigeons that were already swarming around the Old Bird Woman.

"Thank you," she said, watching the birds assemble. "You are very kind. I do wonder… would I be able to ask a little more kindness of you?"

"Well, I'm afraid I cannae spare many more crumbs, you understand?"

Elsa smiled. "No, it's not that. I'm actually trying to find someone. My friend, Anna. You remember her? She's a bit younger than me, shorter, with strawberry-blonde hair, in two pigtails."

"'Anna…?" the old woman mused. "Sorry, dearie, I don't know any lasses by t'name of 'Anna."

"Yes you do! She and I were here last week! With the duke! We bought all your crumbs, remember? I gave you a dozen gold coins!"

"You... you gave me…?" The old woman peered at Elsa, confused. Then her eyes widened in shocked recognition, and she suddenly prostrated herself on the ground. "My princess! I am most sorry! I should not be… I'm not worthy…."

"Please, please, get up!" Elsa whispered urgently, looking around to see if anyone had noticed. "Please!"

"As you command, Highness! How may I serve?"

"Please, just tell me where Anna is. You remember—the girl I was with. The redhead! Anna!"

Mor Fugle looked confused for a moment, then her face cleared. "Oh, her! Not Hanna. Anna! Little Anna! Where is she?"

"That's what I need to find out," Elsa said, starting to feel impatient. "Where does she live?"

The old woman shook her head. "She'll be down Hvitekapellet way. Where the very poorest live. No place for the likes of ye, princess."

"Hvitekapellet? Where's that?"

Fugle pointed with a slightly trembling hand. "Down near the docks, sweetie—uh, Highness. Try askin' the workers down by the docks. Where the fishermen come."

"That's wonderful!" Elsa cried, smiling. "You're so kind!"

"God bless ye and ye royal parents, Highness," the old bird woman said, attempting to curtsey. "And good luck!"

"Thank you!" Elsa gave the astonished beggar a quick peck on the cheek, and then headed off as fast as she could, almost skipping. All she had to do was go to the docks and ask someone how to get to this Hvitekapellet place. Then she and Anna would be home for lunch. It was going to be even simpler than she had thought.

* * *

Sighing with frustration, Elsa thought bitterly back to her initial confidence as she walked slowly down the streets. She was quite lost, and had been for hours. Her feet were throbbing, and she was rather hungry, not even having had breakfast. She had passed several food shops and stalls, but to her frustration she had completely forgotten to bring any money with her. It was never something she had ever thought about—if she wanted some pepperkaker on one of her rare visits outside the castle, it was, as far she knew, always provided free by grateful citizens. If any money had ever changed hands, Elsa had never seen it. It was the same with anything she had wanted. Someone had always provided it for her, and its cost was never so much as mentioned. This was the first time in her young life that Elsa had ever realised, truly, the importance of money. And how not having any could be so hard.

Not to mention how hard it was to actually get around without your own carriage and pair. Elsa had seen many maps of the city, and had always believed she had a fair idea of its layout. But her map knowledge was not translating very well to actually finding her way through the streets, and she had quickly got very lost trying to find her way to the docks. The princess had only ever been to a few, limited parts of the city before. Her routes to and from the cathedral and the other areas that she would visit as part of her royal duties were always clean and neat, the houses washed and the inhabitants reasonably prosperous and well-dressed. She had assumed that the entire city was like this, but in her wanderings, trying to find either the docks or Hvitekapellet, she had passed through areas where the homes were not so large, nor so clean; areas where the people were dressed in duller, plainer clothes and, instead of looking down on her as a maid running an errand, looked to her as an equal, one of their own.

Perhaps because of this, Elsa found herself relaxing more amongst these people, so much lower in station than her, than she ever had amongst the upper classes with their fine clothes and homes. The crowding in some of the streets she was now on would have sent her heart racing and her hands icing over had she encountered it in the rich areas that clustered fashionably near the castle, or spread up the hills for the views, but here she was comfortable having people push past her, and even freely pushing past them. She felt completely safe and anonymous, observing her subjects in ways she never could have from her remote eyrie on top of the castle. It was fascinating, in a way.

The only problem was, this clearly wasn't where Anna lived. She didn't want to ask someone—the idea of starting a conversation with strangers made her heart skip with anxiety, and the fewer people she interacted with the better. If any of them should recognise her as the princess, should see through her disguise—no, it was just too risky. She might lose control of her power, and that would be the end of everything. Besides, everyone seemed so busy, so full of purpose, that she was loathe to interrupt them. Instead she carried on, following her instincts, trying to find the poor areas where Anna grew up.

After another hour, or possibly two, during which the protests from her feet and stomach became even more insistent, Elsa finally managed to spot a sail off to the right, behind a roof, and in a few more minutes had burst out into the docks area with a huge sigh of relief. This was not the elegant port area for the pleasure craft of the wealthy, where the duke had arrived and where her parents would take ship from time to time, but the working docks, where the cod that was the lifeline of the Arendelle economy was shipped to the rest of Europe, and where everything that the small kingdom could not produce itself came in. As a consequence, it was an extremely noisy, chaotic place, and Elsa did her very best to keep out of everyone's way as much as much as possible while she searched the extensive area for any sign that the poor lived here.

After walking up and down the length of the docks several times, she was feeling even more downhearted. This was clearly not a residential area. It was full of warehouses and commercial buildings, not homes. She wandered around aimlessly for a while, not sure where to turn next, trying to think of her next move, preferably one that would not involve asking strangers. As she was thinking, she found herself at the end of the dockyards, looking out over the fjord. Her home stood on the other side of the bay, its ancient towers rising tall above its thick stone walls, the royal standard hanging listlessly in the warm, humid summer air. It was so tempting to just head there, bathe, be dressed in clean, fine clothes, rest her feet, and eat as much as she might desire. But she couldn't. Not without her friend.

Suddenly she seemed to see the royal castle as a stranger might, as a poor girl from the slums would. As Anna might have. The cosy, warm stone walls suddenly became forbidding, hostile barriers. The tall towers became sinister observation posts, where guards might keep a constant eye on the populace. The great gate, an impenetrable shield shutting the world out.

Elsa shuddered. Was this how the people saw her home, saw her family? Remote, isolated, untouchable? Was it really right for the royal family to close themselves off from their people so? Then she remembered why they had, and felt a cold pain in her heart. It was her fault. It was all her fault. Because she hadn't learned her lesson properly—to control her emotions, to not let them show. But it was so hard, so very hard, to control them. She felt them so intensely, so acutely. And the more she tried to control them, to suppress them, the stronger they seemed to become. And the more likely it was that her curse would try to manifest itself.

Except when she was with Anna. With Anna, she could let her emotions go, and yet remain in complete control. There was something about the girl that let her feel completely comfortable, completely relaxed, in a way she couldn't even with her own parents. With Anna, there was no pretence, no formality. She could be who she really was. And so she had to find her. She had to. But where? How? It was hopeless. Utterly hopeless. How could she expect to find one small girl in a city of nearly five thousand souls?

Elsa slumped on a crate, her head in her hands. She was more tired and hungry than she had ever been in her young life, she was lost, and she was still no closer to finding her friend. She would soon have to make her way back home, and face her parents' anger for sneaking out of the castle. She had always known they would be upset with her, but if she could just have found Anna, it would have made it all worth it. But now she would be going back alone, defeated. And she would probably never be allowed to leave again. She would never see her friend again. She had failed utterly. Hiding her face behind her hands, the exhausted young princess broke down and wept.

* * *

"Yee headed home, mate?"

"Gonna stop off at the pub first, Johan. Git sum akevitt doon me salt-parched throat. Join me?"

Johan stopped, hooking his thumbs in his braces, and grinned down at the other man. "Thought ye'd nivver ask. But make mine ale, mind. Sommerøl, bein' as it's summer an' aall."

"Off to the Løiten, then?"

"O' course. Ye'll be getting' the first roond, right, Gunnar me lad? Wi' that haul from the fjord t'day, yee kin afford it, na?"

The shorter, heavier Gunnar grinned, waggling his eyebrows. "Mebbies I kin, mebbies I kin't…."

"Sure an yee kin, yee—hark, d'yee hear? Look, over yon."

"What?"

"That poor wee lass. Weepin' on tha' ole crate."

"Oh, another young beggar girl. Aye, this is where'll ye'll find them, poor souls."

"Hey, lass, don't ye be weepin' now. Yee hungry?"

The small girl with the pale blonde hair started at Johan's touch on her shoulder, staring up at the two fishermen with bright blue eyes filled with tears.

"Please…" she stammered. "Could you help me…?"

"O' course, lass. Here, tek a skilling or twa, gan buy yerself a hot pie," Gunnar said, tossing her some coins. They landed in her lap, and for a moment the young girl did nothing, just stared at them in shock. "Go aheed. They're fo' yee," he said, patting her messy hair.

The girl's lip started trembling, and she gathered up the coins with shaking hands. Then she looked back up at the two men. "You're… you've so kind," she said in a soft and surprisingly cultured voice. "So very… very kind."

"Oh, please. We can't let a loverly young thing like yee starve now, gan we? Not when the fish are jumpin' intee our nets. Yee got a family, a home t' ga to?"

The girl nodded. "I do, thanking you kindly. But first I have to find… I have to find my friend," she said nervously. "I've lost her."

"She live aroond here?"

The girl looked around, and sighed. "I… think so. I don't know. That's what I was told."

"Wey, then. What's her name an' all?"

"Anna."

"Anna, eh? Anna who?"

The girl bit her lip, looking embarrassed. "I… I don't know," she eventually admitted. "I… never asked. Somehow… I never cared enough to ask her."

"Well, that makes it fair harder, don't it Johan?" Gunnar asked. "Lots of Annas aroond here. Popular name, innit?"

"She's got red hair," the girl explained. "Red hair, bright blue-green eyes, lots of freckles. Pig-tails. She talks a lot. She used to—she sells lucifers."

"Red hair? Pigtails? Talks a lot? Yee think she means ald Ingrid's grand-bairn?" Johan asked, scratching his head. "Yee know, the lass who hung aroond the docks sometimes. Cute wee bairn. Hivvn't seen her in moonths."

"Little Anna Sommersdatter?" Gunnar shook his head. "Wait, she passed away, didn't she, poor wee lass? End of last year? Nar na, 'twas the start of this, I recollect."

The girl jumped up, her eyes shining. "No! No, it might be her! But she's not dead!"

The two men looked at each other. "She's nae deed? What d'ya mean?"

"I rescued her! She's been living with me!"

"With yee? An' who're yee?"

The girl suddenly stopped, looking nervous. "Uh, I'm… er, I'm Elsa."

"Elsa, eh? Pleased t' meetcha, Elsa. I'm Gunnar, this 'ere beanpole is Johan."

"Woah! Good 'eavens lass!" Johan gasped. "Nah need t' genuflect leek tha'! We ain't dooks!"

Elsa suddenly stopped her curtsey and stood up, her face pink. "So… do you know where Anna… Sommersdatter lives?"

"Anna Sommersdatter…? Wait, ain't her pa Adolf? Black Adolf?"

"Black… Adolf?" the girl gasped, looking nervous.

"Yeah, that's what they call 'im, on account of 'is black mood when the drink has him."

"Which is always," Gunnar added. "An' when 'e's sober, 'e's in an even worse mood."

"Anyhows, you don't wannae be makin' 'im angry. The things he done to 'is poor wife…. Best nae tell a sweet young thang like yee too much, or ye'll be havin' nightmares."

Elsa went white. "Anna's mother… she…. Oh, Anna, Anna. I hope she's all right…."

"Aye, well, mebbe she'd've bin better off dead, rather than go back to Black Adolf."

The girl started trembling, then managed to pull herself together. "Please, kind sirs, I have to find her. I simply have to. I know she lives in Hvitekapellet, but I can't quite seem to find it. I've been trying all day."

"Hvitekapellet?" Gunnar asked, shaking his head. "Aye, well, it's not easy to find. Hidden away where the high folk'll nivver know aboot it."

"Can you tell me to get there?" Elsa asked, her eyes shining.

"Woah there, lass. I wouldnae be so eager to venture down there if I were ye. Damp, filthy warrens where the sun nivver shines. No person of common humanity would so much as stable 'is 'oss there."

The girl went pale. "I have no choice," she eventually said in a low whisper. "I can't leave her."

"Waell, dinnae worry then," Gunnar said. "At this time o'day, if she's out sellin' Loosifers, she'll not be at home anyhows."

"Not at home? Where, then?"

"Where the rich people are, innit? Yee know. Along that big fancy road, Femtegaten. Or Vestenden and Maimesse, out near the cassil, where the gentry is. The fancy public plazas, what-have-yee. Where those that hev the brass to buy matches are, innit? Them's that spiks aall posh like yee."

"Oh. Of course. I've been such an idiot. Gentlemen, you've been most kind. Thank you both very much."

The two fishermen watched as the young girl hurried off, both of them very puzzled by her.

"Funny kind o' maid," Gunnar commented, shaking his head.

"Yeah, filthy as a beggar an' yet she talks leek a queen," Johan noted. "Now, aboot that pint o' sommerøl yee owe me…."

* * *

After another seemingly endless hike through the maze-like city, Elsa had finally arrived back at the main town square, facing the castle. Trying to ignore her throbbing feet, she stood at the side of the square, trying to spot Anna. It wasn't easy, as most of the people in the square were taller than her, and Anna was shorter still. She glanced around and saw a lamppost with an ornate base. It would make an excellent lookout, she decided, and clambered up it. Shading her eyes from the late afternoon sun, she tried to spot anyone with red hair.

"Oi! What d'y' think yer doin'? Git down from there this instant!"

Startled at the sudden command, Elsa looked down and saw a policeman gesturing angrily at her. She quickly scrambled down, terrified of being arrested and thrown in jail.

"What's your name, girl?" the policeman asked, staring at her.

"Uh… I'm, uh, Hanna, sir," Elsa said, looking nervous, and not wanting to use her real name this close to the castle, where the police were undoubtedly already searching for her. "I'm really sorry," she added. "I didn't mean any—no harm, no sir."

The policeman shook his head and sighed. "Very well. Get along with you, Hanna," he said, waving her off. "And mind you stay out of trouble."

"Yes, sir," Elsa said, trying and not entirely succeeding in keeping a look of relief off her face that he had not recognized his princess. Luckily, the policeman was no longer paying her the slightest bit of attention, and so she hurried off, wandering at random among the people bustling to and fro. How could she ever find Anna in this crowd? Was her friend even here? She was so close, but still so far. It was so frustrating, and she felt near tears again.

"Watch where you're going!" someone called, jostling her and making her stumble.

"How dare you! Have a care for your manners, sir!" Elsa shot back, her regal training asserting itself.

The man stopped and stared at her. "Cheeky brat!" he gasped. "To speak back to your betters like that!"

Elsa glared at him, tired, hungry and beyond caring. "Yous blewdy pig!" she spat at him, using a phrase she'd heard several times in her wanderings in the poorer areas.

"What? You impudent whelp!" the man cried, his face reddening, and before she knew what was happening, he had grabbed her and struck her across the face.

Gasping in shock, Elsa tumbled to the ground, unable to believe what had just happened. Nobody had ever, in her life, hit her—not even her father. She had been punished, certainly, but never physically. The bodies of royalty were considered inviolate; no earthly power had the right to harm them. Before she could recover, the man had vanished into the crowd, and Elsa found herself sobbing; all her exhaustion, her hunger, her frustration, the stress of all the new experiences, and her fear of never finding her friend catching up to her and overwhelming the young girl. She slumped down on the cobblestones, no longer caring what anyone thought, and wept bitterly.

"Hi-highness? Princess Elsa?"

Startled, Elsa blinked and looked up at the sudden voice. A young redheaded girl was standing there, in a patched, threadbare dress that was two sizes too big, holding a pannier of matchboxes. And every tear, every ache and pain, every humiliation the young princess had suffered was instantly forgotten.

"Oh, Anna! Anna!" she gasped, scrambling to her feet, and hugging her friend as tightly as she could, all royal protocol thrown to the winds.

* * *

Anna had been walking her old route since early that morning, and her feet were getting rather sore. Her clean, sturdy maid's clothes and shoes had been sold off soon after she returned, and she was forced to go barefoot. Normally, this would not have mattered, as it was summer after all, but after half a year of living and working indoors, Anna's feet had become soft and tender again. She had developed a blister on her left foot, which, with her other bruises from her beatings, made walking even more painful. And to top it all off, she wasn't selling many matches. Her father would be furious, and with good reason, Anna knew. This was her job. She had to earn money to take care of him, because it was her neglect that had driven him to go out on the streets, to humiliate himself for a few measly coins, and ruin his health.

So she had wandered the familiar avenues and squares, trying to find customers, but her heart was not really into it. She couldn't stop thinking of her life in the castle, but every time she thought about how much pleasure she had had then, she remembered how her father had suffered for it, nearly dying because she was so concerned about herself. She remembered how grateful, almost tender, he had been when she had returned, and felt sure that if only she could work out how to please him, how to keep him happy, then life at home could be, if not quite as grand as life in the castle, at least bearable. Her father wasn't really that bad. Not all the time. And he only hit her because she was such a wilful child, always talking back. And because she was such a dreamer. _He doesn't really mean to hurt me_, she had told herself, rubbing her sore cheek. _He just doesn't know his own strength. That's all_.

Then, drifting aimlessly though the main town square, she had heard a commotion nearby, followed by a sound like a girl sobbing. Her heart moved, Anna had headed towards it, wondering if she could help. Her utter astonishment on seeing her mistress, her princess, squatting on the ground in filthy servant's clothing, her hair a mess and her face covered in dirt, weeping, had made her doubt her own eyes for a moment. But it was definitely her. None of the other people wandering about would have had a hope of recognising the Crown Princess of Arendelle, but for Anna there could be no question. That was her friend, sobbing in utter despair.

And then the princess had flung herself at Anna, and was now weeping openly, holding her tight. What had happened to bring the princess out of the castle, and make her lose her cautious, reserved nature?

"Highness—uh, Elsa?" Anna asked gently, realizing that the princess was incognito for a reason. "Whatever is the matter?"

Elsa let go of her hug and stood back, looking awkward and embarrassed. "I've… I've been looking for you," she admitted.

"For me?" Anna gasped. "Out here? Alone? But… but…." She paused, not sure what to say. "Er, Did you read my letter…."

Elsa nodded dumbly, unable to talk.

Anna felt her face flush. "I'm so awfully sorry about running out like that. I… that is… my father…."

"Oh, Anna, why didn't you tell me?" Elsa suddenly cried. "Why did you keep it a secret? Of course we'd never have made you leave! Why?"

"I… I was scared," Anna confessed, her face reddening even more. "At first, I was so scared of being sent back out, out into the cold. So… I lied. In the hope I could stay. And then… when I got to know you better… I was afraid of being found out. I… I didn't want you to think I was a liar…."

"Well, it doesn't matter now," Elsa said, holding Anna's hands. Anna was surprised how warm the princess's hands felt—nearly as warm as her own. "I finally understand. And we can fix this, hand in hand. Come on, we can head up to the castle together!"

Anna looked at her briefly, her eyes sad, then shook her head. "I… I can't. I am home. This is where I belong."

She turned away, but Elsa grabbed Anna's arm, pulling her back, crying "Anna, no! You belong with me, you belong in the castle. That's your home."

Anna's face filled with a sudden terror, and she cringed, holding up her other arm defensively. Almost as quickly as it happened, Anna suddenly straightened up, but the princess had seen the apprehension, the fear in her eyes.

"Anna, no, please, I would never hurt you!" Elsa cried. "Please don't look at me like that!"

"I… I didn't mean to," the other girl muttered, not meeting Elsa's gaze. "I was… I was surprised."

She gave a sob, and the princess reached out a hand to wipe away a tear from the younger girl's dirty face. Anna winced, and Elsa snatched her hand back. Then she realised that perhaps, for once, it wasn't due to her cold skin.

"Anna, are you all right?" Elsa asked, peering at her friend's face. "You have a nasty bruise, right over your cheek."

"It's… it's nothing," Anna said quickly, not meeting her eyes. "It was my fault."

"Are you sure?" Elsa asked. She remembered what Mrs Gerdason and Hilde had both told her, as well as how the people she met had talked about Black Adolf, and her heart seemed to skip a beat. "Was this… has your father been…?"

Anna shook her head. "I tripped and fell," she muttered in a soft monotone, still looking down. "It was my fault," she repeated.

Elsa looked at Anna's face carefully, not sure if she really believed her friend. But she couldn't let her go back there, go back and be beaten, treated worse than a dog.

"Well, let's go home, and I'll get Mrs Gerdason to fix you up," she said cheerfully. "You'll be right as rain in day or two, you'll see."

The other girl bit her lip, tears gathering. "I can't. Elsa... It's my fault. I wasn't there for my father, I nearly let him die. I was just so glad to be free that I didn't even care what happened to him. It was all my fault…."

"No, no, it wasn't…."

Anna looked at her, a sad finality on her face. "Elsa, please…. Go back home—your life awaits. Go enjoy your fun, and leave me to my fate."

"But… you can't remain here, a beggar!" Elsa gasped.

"I know you mean well, but please, leave me be," Anna pleaded. Her face was bowed, tears dripping down her cheeks. "Yes, I'm poor, but I'm where I'm meant to be. Just stay away… you'll be fine without me."

"Anna, I need you! Please don't shut me out! Without you, I can't control my curse!"

The other girl looked up at Elsa sadly. "I suppose that's all I ever was to you, isn't it, Highness?" she asked dully. "That's why you want me to return. To help you control yourself. I never was anything more than just a servant to you, was I? Goodbye, Your Royal Highness," Anna said quietly. "And… thank you for the snow. That was… fun…."

Elsa gasped, taking a step back and staring at her friend, her fear and despair growing. She stood stunned as Anna walked slowly away. Her plans, her hopes, were collapsing like a snowman in summer. She would be alone again. Alone and imprisoned, a captive of her curse. And Anna would be solitary and poor, her life on the streets nasty, brutish, and short. This couldn't be happening. Why? Why was Anna rejecting her? Why would she think that? Could it be that even now she truly did not believe Elsa was her friend?

"Anna!" she called out.

"Just let it go," Anna said dully. "Let me go."

"No, I can't let you go! Anna, wait! Anna, please, I don't think of you as a plaything, a servant, or some sort of miracle cure. That's not it at all! I do need you, yes. You do help me control my curse. But Anna, that's _because_ you're my friend! You're the only friend I have! When I'm with you, I don't have to be afraid any more. Because of how I feel when I'm with you…."

The blonde girl stood there awkwardly, suddenly realizing that she had called that out across the crowded plaza. Mortified, she stood still, dreading the cry of "witch!" she was sure was coming. But nobody seemed to have even noticed—not a single person was paying attention to her.

Except one.

"Oh, Elsa," Anna said, biting her lip. She looked at the filthy, tired princess, who had ventured out, alone, into the city just to find her, and wondered how she could ever have imagined that Elsa didn't really care about her. She had been so wrapped up in her own guilt and self-loathing that she had not really believed that anyone could love her. "I'm sorry. I… I can't. I tried to tell myself you didn't care for me, that you only wanted to use me, to make the parting easier, but… it didn't work." She sighed. "But how can I leave my father? He's the only family I have left. I wish it didn't have to be this way, but… it's the only way. The only way I could live with myself…."

Elsa shook her head, desperately trying to marshal an argument against that. But how could she ask someone to abandon their own family? After all, Anna's father would starve without the money the girl could earn by selling…. Then her heart skipped a beat as she suddenly realized what the answer was. It was so simple. If she hadn't been so panicked, she would have thought of it long ago.

"Anna, no, it doesn't have to be this way! You don't have to live in fear—fear of poverty, of your father! Listen, you can still be a maid, and you can help your father! Just visit him each Sunday, taking him some money!"

"Wait, you mean…." Anna stopped, and looked up at Elsa. Then she looked down at her carrying carton of matches, then back at Elsa's muddy, tear-streaked face, and gave her a nervous smile. "I can see him every Sunday, take him some money?"

Elsa nodded. "I'll make sure you get enough for both of you. He won't have to beg on the streets ever again, I promise. We can go see him together, and you can tell him. Then we can go back home, and everything will be perfect again!"

"So… so… you'd really have me back?"

Elsa grabbed her friend in a hug and squeezed her tightly. "Does this answer your question?"

"Oh, Elsa…. Why? Why would you do this for me?"

"Because for the first time in forever, I have a chance to change my lonely world, and you have the chance to get what you're dreaming of. Your happy ending."

Anna shook her head, smiling. "No. _Our_ happy ending…."

She looked at the princess's dirty face again. The elegant, sophisticated Princess Elsa, the future monarch of Arendelle, wearing dirty, muddy maid's clothes, her hair a mess, and her smooth, alabaster skin streaked with tears and grime. Suddenly Anna found herself wanting to laugh. She tried to stop it at first, afraid Elsa would think she was laughing at her, but the laughter didn't stop. It bubbled up, making her giggle and then finally laugh out loud.

Elsa looked at her strangely for a moment, then also started laughing as Anna's joy infected her. Just two anonymous figures in the thronging crowd, the princess and the beggar girl hugged, tears of joy streaming down their faces as the two friends were reunited at last.

* * *

Elsa stood, frozen to the spot, horrified at what she could see. Anna had led her to Hvitekapellet, ducking into an alleyway that looked like little more than a gap between buildings, a shadow hidden within a shadow. The princess would never have given it a second glance normally. How many more places like this were there in her city, hidden in plain view because she had never thought to look for them? Because no one wanted to know about them? She had always known that some people in her kingdom were poorer than others, but she had never dreamed it could ever be this bad.

The narrow alleyway she stood in, barely wide enough for a single cart, was gloomy even in the middle of the day: the little sunlight that managed to penetrate the narrow gaps between the roofs and percolate through the many lines of washing hung out over the lane was swiftly swallowed up by the blackened timbers. The houses looming close on either side would have been respectable once, a century or more ago, but now were rotten from cellar to chimney, held together only by the mere coherence of their ingrained corruption.

Dark, uneasy shadows caused by the movements of the laundry, or vermin, or quickly-closing doors, flitted around the edges of her vision, while the rest of her sight was filled with the people living there, the fetid refuse of the modern era. Many of them were just sitting idly, there being nothing else to do in this festering underbelly of society. Men would sit slumped in doorways, indolent, their hands in their pockets, and only their eyes ever-shifting, while women stared out of doors and windows with sunken, black-rimmed eyes, their pallid faces seeming to appear and disappear in the gloom, skulls floating in darkness.

In the summer's warmth, the waste and refuse thrown into the street quickly festered, and down the middle of the road ran a shallow ditch that served as an open sewer. The stench assaulted her nostrils, and she tried to breathe through her mouth, but that made her feel almost as if she were eating the refuse. Quickly clapping her handkerchief to her nose, the princess carefully stepped between piles of muck and garbage, unable to believe her senses. How could places like this exist? Why could anyone want to live here?

"Move it!" came a cry, and Anna caught Elsa, pulling her to the side as a barrow was pushed past her, filled with such scraps of cabbages and carrots that she would not even have fed to the horses. She watched in terrified fascination as the man pushing the cart stopped in a wider area, and began to set up a stall. Grey-faced women wearing grey rags drifted out of the nearby tenements, and began picking through the meagre offerings.

Elsa felt bile rise in her throat. This was like one of the circles of Dante's Inferno—the Maleboge leading to the final, Ninth, Circle of Hell; a river of human excrement and filth. And a nightmare she had no idea existed.

"Anna… do you really… do people really live down here?" Elsa gasped.

"We do indeed," the maid said dryly. "Welcome to my world, O noble princess. Welcome to the wynds!"

"The… the wynds?"

"Here. The dark, winding alleyways where the wretched refuse of your gleaming kingdom gathers. The tired, the poor, gathered in huddled masses yearning to live free."

"But Anna! Why? Why do people live like this? Why don't they leave?"

The beggar girl shrugged. "And go where? With no money? The wynds and closes are cheap. And even if you can't afford a place, there's dosshouses an' stuff, just a skilling a night. And if you can't afford that, there's doorways to sleep in."

"But… why? Why is there no money? What do these people do? What does your father do?"

"Mudlarking," Anna said, helping Elsa jump over a wide puddle. "Leastways, when he feels like it."

"What's that?"

"He's a mudlark. He sometimes scavenges down in the mud by the river and the coast, sees if there's something he can resell." Anna sighed deeply, looking around at the passers-by. "Other folk, other men, if they're reasonable strong 'n' healthy that is, they're the lucky ones, they might find work on the docks, or if not, maybe scrounging the sewers—toshers, we call 'em. The women and girls'll be sellin' cress or lucifers. Taking in washing or darning. Selling whatever they can find. Or… or selling themselves…."

"Oh God…." Elsa was horrified.

"They don't got no choice," Anna said dully, not meeting Elsa's eye. "None of us do. Here girls like me are lucky if they go from the orphan-house to the workhouse to the whorehouse."

"Lucky?" Elsa gasped.

Anna shot her a look. "At least they're alive. And you can make a bit o' decent coin, if you're good. If they like yee. An' when it's a choice between that or starvin'…. Down here, in the abyss, we do what we must to survive. Anything to get a bit o' coin, a bit o' brass." Anna paused, looking around the wretched lane they were in. "But mostly there ain't anythin' we kin do," she added in a quiet voice. "Mostly there ain't nothin' for us folks down here. Nothin' but misery. And death the only way out."

"Oh." Elsa swallowed, saddened and sickened. Tears were gathering in her eyes as fear gave way to pity, and to sympathy. She looked around again, seeing the people of the wynds for the first time as people, every bit as human as she was. The skull-like woman was not a scary ghost, but so poor, so hungry, she was little more than skin and bone. The indolent man lying in the doorway was not lazy, but had no food to give him energy, or perhaps was ill with cholera or consumption.

"This way," Anna said, interrupting Elsa's introspection. She led the way under a dark passageway so low that Elsa nearly brushed her hair against the old beams supporting the building above. The passageway led to a tiny central courtyard, in the middle of which stood a dilapidated well. On all four sides the buildings rose up tall, cutting out any sunlight or breeze, so the air was stifling and rank. The buildings were covered in a maze of ramshackle wooden stairs and balconies, connecting the various residences.

Elsa almost choked. The stench of the alleyways was far worse here, and she felt as if she might be sick. She could see piles of refuse heaped in the corners, and started as she realized that what she had thought was a heap of rags was a woman, asleep with an empty bottle in her hand. And over by the well, she saw a young child, no more than four or five and almost naked, playing in the mud and filth with a doll made from straw and rags, perhaps the only toy she had.

"An' doncha worry, Cindy-relly, th' prince'll find yee," the girl was telling her doll. "An' when he does, he'll take yee away to live in his big castle, and yee'll nivver hafta et toast an' grey cabbage for dinner agin. Would ya like tha'? I shore knows Ah would, one day…."

"Oh, you poor child," Elsa whispered, feeling her eyes prickle. Wishing she could do something, she remembered the skillings she had been tossed by the fisherman.

"Here you go," she whispered, handing them to the little girl. "Buy yourself a real doll…."

"Wha-? Tha's three whole skillin's!" the girl cried, shocked. She grabbed the coins and ran to the sleeping woman, pushing her hard. "Mamma! Mamma! Wake oop! We gan has supper t'night! We gan eat! Mamma? Mamma, please... wake up..."

It was the most heart-wrenching sight the young princess had ever seen, and she let her tears flow freely, uncaring. How remote, how isolated had she been, locked in her tower? Her telescope had never shown her this human misery. Her entire life had been like that, she realized: hiding herself away, observing everything from far away, never getting involved. She could no longer be that person. She could no longer turn away and shut the door, pretending she just didn't see.

"Up here," Anna called, and Elsa turned back to see Anna head up one of the rickety staircases. She gingerly stepped on it, feeling her shoe slip a bit on the slime that coated the wood, and suppressing a shudder. And yet Anna was also barefoot, she realized, seeing her friend's filthy feet disappear up the stairs ahead of her.

Taking a deep breath to steel herself, then immediately regretting it as the foulness almost overwhelmed her, she followed Anna up the uneven stairs flight to her tiny hovel in the heart of the wynds.

"We're… uh, we're here," Anna said, looking nervous and embarrassed.

"This… is your home? My God!" Elsa gasped, looking at the rudely-assembled wooden door, the tiny window staring blankly out. "I'm sorry, forgive me," she quickly added. "I didn't mean to be rude. Of course it was never going to be as nice as a royal castle. It's just that…." She trailed off, not knowing what she could possibly say.

"Sometimes it was nice enough, in its own way," Anna admitted. "When my grandmother was there for me." She bit her lip. "I miss her, you know. When she died… everything changed. The last good thing about this place died with her. When you found me, that winter morning… I think I might have been trying to join her…."

Elsa gave Anna's hand a quick squeeze. "I'm glad you didn't," she whispered.

"So am I, now," Anna replied, glancing quickly up at her friend's face. Then she bit her lip again. "I hope he's not too angry— Best… best let me do all the talking. You… you should hang back. Just… just in case…."

The princess felt her throat go dry. "Very… very well," she stammered, suddenly scared of meeting the man who terrified her friend so.

Anna pushed the door open, and Elsa followed her in. She found herself in a tiny room, dark and noisome, formed from the upper half of a once-elegant drawing room. The faded, grimy remains of an ornate ceiling were a cruel contrast to the crude walls and floor, which looked as if they had been made from random timbers scavenged from junkyards. There was no furniture to speak of—just a table and a couple of stools, and in one corner was a pile of ancient blankets and rags to serve as a bed. A small fireplace stood against what was once the wall of the drawing room, over which a single empty pot hung. The rest of the room was filled with old battered crates and boxes, some filled with discarded junk, others empty. And the entire place reeked of cheap alcohol.

A man sat on one of the stools, facing the door, and cradling a bottle in his hand. He was tall but thin, with matted black hair and a thick dark beard, and his eyes were rimmed with dark circles.

Elsa shrank back, staying near the door, as Anna ventured into the middle of the gloomy hovel.

"Fa... father?" she called softly. "I'm… home."

"What're yee doin' 'ere?" the man growled. "Yee sold aall the matches a'ready?"

"Er, no, not yet, I—"

"Yee didn't sell 'em? Then git back out there, yee useless slag! What the 'ell are yee doin' back withoot sellin' evarry last one, eh?"

"Fa-father, please!" Anna cried, taking a step back as her father levered himself off the stool and lurched towards her. "Please, I have something to say. Something important! A way I can help you!"

"Help me?" he growled. "Yee kin help me by doin' as you're telled, fo' a start! Git oot an' sell those matches! Or dee I hev to lay one on yee again, to remind yee?"

Anna shook her head, her pigtails flying. "Father, remember the money I brought with me? The money I made? I can go and bring you more. You saw how much I brought with me!

"'Tweren't enough to buy me a crateful o' grog," her father snarled.

"But… but that's because I had to buy medicines, food," Anna said. "And you took the rest. But there must be lots left!"

Adolf scowled, then took another swig. "Aye, well, not after I lost it bettin' on the dogfights, see?"

"You… you lost it? All of it? All my money?" Anna stammered, and Elsa could see tears welling up as her friend realized that all her months of hard work had just vanished, as if it never existed. She stepped forward, and took Anna's hand again, hoping it would help her friend be stronger.

"'Tweren't yor brass, girl. I'm in charge o' this fam'ly an' its fi… finances!" He glared at Elsa, as if seeing her for the first time. "Who t' Hell's dat?"

"This is Elsa," Anna said. "She can help us! She got me my position! Pappa, I could go with her, be a maid, make money, and send it to you, regular-like! Money like I gave yee afore!"

"Wot? You go an' live in the cassil? Don' be daft!"

"But you'd get mo' brass!" Anna said, slipping back into her old accent in her worry. "I could come each Sunday, and gives it to yee!"

Adolf glared at Anna and Elsa, his bloodshot eyes going from one to the other. Then he shook his head. "Nah, I don't leek it," he snarled. "Ya's stayin' right 'ere where I kin keep a proper eye on yee! I'll no have yee run away from me again!"

"But Pappa!"

"An' you just shut yer mouth! Ya's gettin' illusions o' granjer, huh?"

"I'm not," Anna said quietly, looking at the floor, her lip trembling. "I'm not…."

Elsa felt her face flush with anger. She couldn't stand by and let Anna face him alone. She was a princess, the next queen of Arendelle, and she would not let some drunken bully abuse her friend.

"Sir, if you'll just hear us out, you'd understand that—"

"An' who t' Hell are yee t' be flappin' yer gob in mah 'ouse?" her father snarled.

"I'm Anna's friend," the princess said. "I'm a maid in the castle as well."

He glared at her through reddened eyes. "Aye? Now I see it. So ya's the one what lured her away? Ya's the one who tried to took me bairn? Tryin' t' rob me of me livelihood?"

"Leave her alone, Pappa!" Anna shouted. "It's not 'er fault I didnae come back!"

"Nay, it's ya's, y' ungrateful little brat."

"Pappa, if yee let me go, if yee let me return, I telled yee b'fore, I can send yee money each week! I can come an' visit yee evarry Sunday!"

"An' why the devil should I believe yor lyin' muuth?" he snarled, taking a step towards her.

"Anna is not lying, sir," Elsa said coldly, her temper rising.

Adolf glared at her through slitted eyes. Remembering she was a princess, a future queen, Elsa forced herself to meet his stare, though inside she was terrified. She was acutely conscious of every vein on his face, every scar, every smear of dirt, every wiry black hair. He coughed, hawking up a gob, which he spat into the corner as Elsa winced. Then he took a big gulp, finishing off his bottle and tossing it aside before he stood up, his head nearly brushing the low ceiling.

"It's you, blondie!" he growled. "Ya's tryin' to tek 'er from me! Yee wanna tek 'er out with yee on the street, whoring 'er out? Yee pasty-faced bitch, damn yee to Hell, yee gutter skank! Slag! Whore!"

Elsa went white with shock, frozen, unable to respond. No one, not once, had ever used such language to her, or even spoken to the young girl with anything like this venom. All her regal poise and training fell by the wayside, and she started to weep.

"Father! How dare you!" Anna cried furiously. "How dare you! Don't ever call my friend that! Ever!"

"An' yee shut yor damn whore mouth!" her father shouted. "Yee dare speak back t' y' father leek that?"

Swaying drunkenly, he grabbed a long stick and swung it at Anna. There was a sickening thud, and the girl screamed and fell to the floor from the force of the blow.

"No! Anna!" Elsa cried, unable to believe what she had just seen. Anna was bleeding from the mouth, sobbing in pain and hugging her arm. Her father was raising his arm for another blow, and Elsa didn't even stop to think. Furious at his brutality to his own child, terrified of what he might yet do, a white-hot rage overcame her, flooding her body with adrenalin, filling her mind with one single thought: he must not harm her friend any more. Before he could strike again, she rushed to protect the other girl, putting herself between Anna and her father, her eyes shut tight and her hand out to ward off the blow she knew was coming.

There was a blinding light, and a short, strangled yell of agony, quickly cut off. Then a sick wet thud, followed by a sound Elsa knew well—the sound of creaking, cracking ice, growing and spreading. She opened her eyes, dreading what she might see, just as Anna screamed.

* * *

Her arm throbbing in pain from the blow, Anna slowly raised her head. The familiar iron-metallic tang of blood was strong in her mouth, making her feel sick. Then she felt something warm and wet, and opened her eyes. It was blood. There was blood, everywhere, staining the room red with its gruesome hue. She was also cold—she suddenly realized she was lying on ice. Then a movement caught her eye, and she let out a piercing scream.

Her father was spread-eagled against the wall, pinned there by a long, lethal blade of pure blue-white ice straight through his chest. Blood was spurting out from his wound, splashing on the ground. Pink foam dribbled from his mouth as it twitched, as if he were trying to say something. He reached out his arm, his eyes fastened on her, then slowly slid forwards, the ice blade pulling through his body. With a final gurgle, he slumped on the floor, dead.

Anna scrambled back, her mind blank with terror and shock, her screams growing louder and louder. Then she noticed the princess, standing frozen above her, her arms raised, unmoving, her hands completely frosted with ice.

"Elsa…!" she shrieked. "Elsa! What happened? What did you do?"

* * *

It was over. It was all over. She had done the unthinkable. She had lost control of her power, her curse, and killed a man. A man whose blood was now spattered all over her face, her hair, her dress. Elsa had frozen in shock, barely able to comprehend what she was seeing.

Then she heard the screams.

As if in a nightmare, she slowly turned in horror, looking down at the young girl. Anna stared up at her, her eyes wide and her face drained of colour.

"Anna… Anna, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean it!" the princess cried, taking a step towards her friend. But Anna just screamed again, her face filling with fear as Elsa moved towards her. "Please, Anna… please... don't be afraid of me…."

But Anna's face remained unchanged, a rigid mask of terror, staring at her with eyes that stabbed into Elsa's heart with but a single thought—_monster_. She was a monster. A murderer, a witch, a demon. It was all over. Her dreams, her future, would all end here, with her captured, tried as a murdering witch, then burned. Elsa felt faint, her fear filling her, terror taking her over. She could feel ice spreading over her entire body, the power of her curse taking over, consuming her.

"No, no, no!" she moaned, staggering back, away from her friend, trying to escape before she lost control. More ice spread out from under her feet, quickly covering the wall, penetrating deep into the rotten timbers. A freezing wind whipped up, and the air was suddenly filled with snowflakes, which rapidly became a blinding blizzard, whirling around with her at the centre of the storm. "No, please no! Not now! Why?"

"Elsa! Elsa! What's happening?"

Hearing Anna's cry, the princess turned to look at her friend, barely visible in the driving tempest that was shaking the entire room. She desperately wished she could hold her, be warmed by her, but knowing that could never happen. Not now. Because she was a monster. "Anna, I'm so sorry! I tried! I tried!" she cried. "I can't control my curse! I can't! No!"

"Elsa, stop! Please! Stop! I'm scared!"

"Anna, I can't! Help me! Please! I can't stop it!" Elsa's mind was a whirl of emotions; fear, horror, seeping into every part of her body. The entire building creaked and groaned as the blizzard grew stronger and stronger, with the young princess at its centre, desperately trying to control her fear, to control her curse. Before it destroyed everything.

"Elsa, please! Don't do this!" Anna shrieked. "Stop!"

The princess looked at her, seeing the terror in her eyes. "Anna… I… I… no…. I can't. I CAN'T!" she finished with an agonised shout as the raw, pent-up emotion, the fear inside her, grew and grew until her body suddenly seemed to explode. The room was instantly filled with lethal spikes of ice, spraying out from the Ice Princess in all directions, smashing through the hovel's walls with a tremendous noise.

There was a moment of sudden, horrible silence, during which the universe itself seemed to hold its breath. Then there was a another soft thud, like a cannon-shot in the deathly silent chamber, followed by another silence, even more ominous than the last.

Elsa whirled around. Anna was lying crumpled on the floor, blood seeping from her head. It took the terrified princess a moment before she realized what she was seeing, what she had done. What her curse had wrought.

"ANNA!"

Elsa's shriek of pure horror echoed around the chamber, sending cracks racing through the icy walls and floor as jagged spikes erupted at all angles, covering the crude joinery in crooked, ugly, twisted shapes. The princess dashed across the icy floor, and cradled her friend in her arms.

"Anna! No! I'm so sorry!" she shrieked, tears spurting from her ice-blue eyes and freezing immediately into crystals that tinkled onto the ground.

The room was creaking and groaning as its old, unstable timbers were forced apart by the rapidly-expanding ice. The entire building jolted to the side as a support gave way somewhere, and dust and filth rained down from the ceiling.

Elsa cradled Anna's head, despite the frost spreading out from her fingers, sobbing in utter despair. The injured girl's breath came in laboured gasps, her body temperature swiftly dropping. Elsa rocked back and forth, moaning wordlessly, struggling to comprehend what had happened. Her entire universe had been compressed down to the girl she held in her arms. Nothing mattered but her friend, the friend she had hurt. The enormity of what she had done filled Elsa's mind with a whirling white storm, a formless void of despair and loathing. She sat alone at its centre, a tiny speck isolated by an infinity of horror, watching, as if from a million miles away, Anna's life ebb away.

Around her, the massive spikes of ice grew and spread, slowly wrenching apart the dilapidated building with the inexorable, unstoppable power of a glacier. The timbers gave way and crashed down as the old house finally collapsed in a great creaking, groaning roar of destruction, burying the two girls beneath its ruins.

.

.

* * *

**KNOWTES:**

Sorry it's so long. Over 10,500 words. About 13,000 if you count the Knowtes. But I couldn't cut it in the middle—it's one long buildup to the final tragedy. Chopping it into two would ruin the momentum, the inexorable march to that final tragedy.

This is a chapter I've been looking forward to writing since the start. I wanted to really make the full horror of the poverty of 19th century Industrial Revolution Europe stark, contrasting it with the colourful, happy world we see in the film, and which Elsa would have been familiar with. Unfortunately, I actually had to pare down the chapter a lot (and it's still really long), so didn't manage to include as much on the poverty as I would have liked. Initially I was going to have a whole chapter on Anna's life with her father, but that would have added very little, and frankly would have been a sadistic repetition of "beat, repeat." As it is, the chapter structure underwent a number of revisions, but in the end I went with this present one as being the shortest and most linear. After all, indulging my desire to lecture about the history too much would have detracted from the main story – the key was to strike a balance, and always keep the characters' reactions front and foremost. So I hope I have managed to do that.

The title comes from a famous part of Alfred, Lord Tennyson's poem _The Princess_, "Home They Brought Her Warrior Dead." Interestingly, this part of the (much) longer poem is based, albeit rather loosely, on an Old Norse poem from the Poetic Edda. So it's not entirely culturally out of place…. Keen (and repeated) readers will note that I have changed the title of this chapter twice. Chapter titles are important, and when you think you've got the right one, you can modify the chapter a little and realise it doesn't quite fit any more. Or think of something better….

Rather than just making up the dialect of the poor, as I have in the past with lower class dialects, I have used the Geordie Translator at whoohoo-dot-uk to get some accuracy and consistency. I have modified it somewhat, and changed the slang terms that wouldn't be clear back to normal English, however—it shouldn't be too hard to read. Let me know if it was, and I will tone it down even more. Geordie is basically the dialect of NE England, Tyneside and that area in particular. American readers should note that it, like most English dialects, is non-rhotic – you don't pronounce the "r". It's where "pawn shop" rhymes with "porn shop"…. Also, I chose Geordie over the available ones as being _more_, not less, easy to understand…. Aren't you glad I didn't choose to use Cockney rhyming slang?

The Apostle Peter (not Judas, Anna) is famous in the Bible for (among other things) being asked, after his bro Jesus was arrested, "Oi, you know this 'ere rabble-rousing Messiah chap?" and saying "Nope, never set eyes on the guy. I've got nothing to do with him."

"Now I'm standing here, in the life I've chosen" is a shout-out (or perhaps a "singout") to the pop version of _Let It Go_, as I'm sure you all recognised. The pop version, while inferior in just about every way to the real version, does have extra lyrics, and I rather like them, so have appropriated them here – "up here in the cold thin air, I finally can breathe" being the others. Unfortunately I can't think of a way to jam that one in…. I've added in a few other minor singouts here and there.

A "penning" (not a typo for "penny") was the basic unit of the Danish currency system. 12 penning = 1 skilling, 16 skillings = 1 mark, 6 marks = 1 rigsdaler and 8 marks = 1 krone. The Wikipedia article on Norwegian currency only mentions skillings, 120 to the rigsdaler, and since in Denmark it was 96 skillings to the rigsdaler (16 x 6), which is sort of roughly not _too_ far from 120, and had further smaller denominations, I think it would make sense that there was a coin below the skilling (which is really a shilling). Selling a bag of crumbs for a shilling, as I had her before, would be too much.

(While I cut it from the main text as being needlessly confusing, the gold coins Elsa refers to would be "Agdar d'Or" coins, going by the gold coins issued by Denmark from 1826, which were denominated in "Frederiks d'Or" or "Christians d'Or" (depending on the name of the ruling king). The "d'or" was nominally worth 10 rigsdaler, so Elsa really showered the old bird woman with cash. Elsa has absolutely no idea of the value of money….)

"Hvite kapellet" is Norwegian for "white chapel," taken from one of the most notorious of London slums, Whitechapel. Famous as the place where a certain Mr. Jack "the" Ripper practiced surgery on poor prostitutes…. Whitechapel was originally quite a nice area, but it began to deteriorate in the 18th century, as London's population exploded. In places like Whitechapel and the almost-as-notorious Spitalfields, once-prosperous houses were divided up into tiny tenements, known as "made-down houses," which were rented to poor labourers—many of whom worked in the East London docklands.

The population of the city is roughly based on that of Vaduz and San Marino City, both capitals of micro-states with a total national population of around 30,000, which is what I've pegged Arendelle as (which places it among the very smallest independent states on Earth as of the 21st century). The city as shown in the film, of course, is barely a village—no more than a few hundred households. I shall assume that is to make it easier to animate or something, and that the real city is larger. And that the real kingdom is more than this village, a mountain, and a fjord. Between Arendelle and Corona, sometimes I am forced to wonder if Disney writers know that a kingdom is actually not usually a single city. It's true there are places like Monaco, and there used to be more like it, but most micro-states in Europe are in fact a little bit bigger than that.

"Akvavit" is the traditional alcoholic drink of Scandinavia, known as "akevitt" in Norwegian. It gets its distinctive flavour from spices and herbs, and the main spice should be caraway or dill. It typically contains 40% alcohol by volume. I've never had it, and while those spices make it sound nice, it probably isn't, not at 40% (I don't really like alcohol anyway, so YMMV). "Sommerøl" (summer ale) is a type of Norwegian beer. "Løiten" is a major Norwegian akevitt producer, so I have appropriated that as the name of the pub.

"Adolf" is a perfectly cromulent name in Germany and Scandinavia, though less popular these days than it was before one Herr A. Hitler brought the name into some disrepute by trying to expand his living room over the objections (and bodies) of his neighbours. It's actually a pretty cool name qua name: it's from the Old High German Athalwolf, a composition of athal, or adal, meaning _noble_, and _wolf_. So "noble wolf." The fact that I've given Anna's father the name of someone whose reputation is not entirely blemish-free is not entirely coincidental... In another story, I would actually make him less brutal, less of a monster, but I don't want people thinking Elsa should be punished or that she is bad/evil. Elsa will have quite enough of her own guilt over this, don't worry.

"Vestenden" and "Maimesse" are Norwegian for "West end" and "May fair" respectively. Yes, I am being silly with the parallels with London, but it's all for fun. So you won't be surprised that "Femtegaten" is "Fifth street/avenue." Of course the Norwegians call the actual "Fifth Avenue" "Fifth Avenue," so I can't use that.

The quote, "No person of common humanity would so much as stable his horse there" is paraphrased slightly from Engels, _Conditions of the Working Class in England_, who was utterly horrified by the squalor of the Glasgow wynds: ""I have seen human degradation in some of its worst phases, both in England and abroad, but I can advisedly say, that I did not believe, until I visited the wynds of Glasgow, that so large an amount of filth, crime, misery, and disease existed in one spot in any civilised country." Or read Engels' damning reports of conditions in the chapter "The Great Towns."

With regard to my "maze-like" comment, modern ideas of city planning and rational layout were only getting started in the 19th century, though the problem was recognized earlier: Voltaire complained about the markets "established in narrow streets, showing off their filthiness, spreading infection and causing continuing disorders." He wrote that the facade of the Louvre was admirable, "but it was hidden behind buildings worthy of the Goths and Vandals." The grand boulevards of Paris are all 19th century works. So Arendelle cities in the early 19th century would still retain a largely medieval layout.

"Solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short" is how Hobbes described the natural (pre-central government; uncivilized) state of Man in his work _Leviathan_. Mainly because he saw it as a time of constant warfare. But it aptly described life for children in the very poorest areas: what Jack London (no relation to the city) called "the slaughter of the innocents" (in his _People of the Abyss_).

The word "wynd" itself, referring to the narrow lanes between working-class housing, is believed to be because these narrow alleyways are so twisty and windy. That's windy as in not straight, not windy as in lots of breezes. English can be annoyingly limited at times….

The phrase "the mere coherence of their ingrained corruption" is taken from _The Palace Vermin_, where Arthur Morrison described the Brick Lane slums and its environs as "black and noisome, the road sticky with slime, and palsied houses, rotten from chimney to cellar, leaning together, apparently by the mere coherence of their ingrained corruption. Dark, silent, uneasy shadows passing and crossing – human vermin in this reeking sink, like goblin exhalations from all that is noxious around. Women with sunken, black-rimmed eyes, whose pallid faces appear and vanish by the light of an occasional gas lamp, and look so like ill-covered skulls that we start at their stare." So I've borrowed liberally from that to get the atmosphere right. However, I have improved the crime rate. I don't want Elsa getting mugged on top of everything else.

The Maleboge, in Dante's Inferno, is the Eighth Circle of Hell, a large, funnel-shaped cavern, divided into ten concentric ditches, leading down to the final, Ninth Circle (where, incidentally, Satan sits trapped in a _Frozen_ lake…). The second ditch, where sinners guilty of excessive flattery are punished, is a river of human excrement in which they are immersed forever. (Also, "Maleboge" is a really cool word….)

A mudlark is someone who scavenges in river mud for items of value, a term used especially to describe those who scavenged this way in London during the late 18th and 19th centuries. I've appropriated it here for the coast, rather then the river, although there probably are mountain streams running through the city. A tosher, as I noted, is the "men who made it their living by forcing entry into London's sewers at low tide and wandering through them, sometimes for miles, searching out and collecting the miscellaneous scraps washed down from the streets above: bones, fragments of rope, miscellaneous bits of metal, silver cutlery and–if they were lucky–coins dropped in the streets above and swept into the gutters." I feel compelled to note that this job, as disgusting as it sounds, has an even fouler modern equivalent: the poor people, often Untouchables, who clean out India's sewers, dressed only in a thin pair of shorts, and wading all day through the foulest refuse of human waste and flotsam you can imagine.

As to Anna's surname—almost all fics seem to use either "Andersen" (from the author) or "Summers" (what, is she Buffy's cousin or something? Hm—I smell a crossover!). In the 19th century, it was not yet law in Norway that commoners have a single, hereditable family name (that didn't happen until 1923). Surnames were based on the father's name (Andersen = Ander's son). And as a girl, Anna would not be named "-son" for what I hope are obvious reasons…. So Anna's last name would almost certainly have been "Father's name+datter/dotter." At least probably. (Also, as kindly noted by **abbey47** in November, I really should have called the housekeeper "Gerdadatter" – oh well…) Initially, not having a better idea myself than "Andersen" or "Summers," I went with "Andersdatter." But I do prefer the "summer" aspect of her name, as clichéd as it might be, and wanted to go with Sommersdatter, Norwegian for "Summer's daughter." I was worried that it wasn't a real name, but I've actually found one reference to a woman with the surname "Sommersdatter," from 1754 in Denmark (the mother of Maaria Elisabeth Mathisdatter, whose father was Mathis Hermann. See how this works?). So Anna, Daughter of Summer, is her full name (while a patronym, from the father, was standard, a matronym was also possible so we can assume Anna's mother was called "Sommer" and therefore Anna is not Adolfsdatter…). You'll note that I carefully avoided ever mentioning her surname before this, precisely so that Elsa could realize just how little she really knew about her friend….

**Further reading** (my main references for this chapter; all available online):  
_The Old Closes and Streets of Glasgow_ (University of Glasgow)  
_The People of the Abyss_ (Jack London)  
_London Labour and the London Poor_ (Henry Mayhew)  
_Condition of the Working Class in England_ (Friedrich Engels)  
_Slums and Slumming in Late-Victorian London_ (Andrzej Diniejko, "The Victorian Web")  
_Quite Likely the Worst Job Ever_ (Smithsonian Mag)  
_Norwegian Naming Patterns_ (Johan Borgos)  
_'Home they brought her warrior dead'_ ("A Clerk of Oxford" blog, 8 July 2011)

[**Posted**: 11-1-15]

[**Edited**: 12 Jan 15: Added translations of the dialect for non-natives and others having problems]

[**Edited**: 24 April 2015: Toned down the dialect some more, considering the number of non-native speakers that read this. Made a few minor adjustments to wording, and fixed a couple of stubborn errors.]

* * *

**TRANSLATIONS FOR NON-NATIVE SPEAKERS **

...and others having trouble with how I've tried to express the lower-class dialect. (As a native speaker, I don't find the dialect hard to follow at all.)

* * *

"Stap blubbin', yee stoopid bint! Yee must hev mar brass!"  
\- - "Stop crying, you stupid girl! You must have more money!"

"Liar! Yer holdin' out on me! On yor ahn fathor, who yee left to starve while yee ran off an' lived tuh high life in that damned cassil!"  
\- - "Liar! You're holding out on me! On your own father, who you left to starve while you ran off and lived the high life in that damned castle!"

"Ungrateful blewdy brat! Eftor Ah took care iv yee, bathed yee, fed yee - this is ha' yee repay me?"  
\- - "Ungrateful bloody brat! After I took care of you, bathed you, fed you - this is how you repay me?"

"An' stap talkin' in that fancy wa'! Wha', yee t'ink you're bettor than tuh likes iv tuh rest o' uz?"  
\- - "And stop talking in that fancy way! What, you think you're better than the likes of the rest of us?"

"Where's the othor un?" he muttered, peering around the small, gloomy room through bloodshot eyes. "Thar shud be anuthor bottle 'ere…."  
\- - "Where's the other one?" he muttered, peering around the small, gloomy room through bloodshot eyes. "There should be another bottle here…."

"Yee dare to tell yor ahn fathor wot he kin an' canna dee? Yee mouthy bairn, ya's worse than yor ma, ya's! Neeow git! An' tek those bloody matches wi' yee! An' divvin't cume back until yi'v sold 'em aall!"  
\- - "You dare to tell your own father what he can and cannot do? You mouthy child, you're worse than your ma, you are! Now get! And take those bloody matches with you! And don't come back until you've sold them all!"

"Anna, oh me canny wee lass,"  
\- - "Anna, oh my lovely little girl,"

"Gonna stap off at the pub frst, Johan. Git sum akevitt doon me salt-parched throat."  
\- - "Going to stop off at the pub first, Johan. Get some akevitt down my salt-parched throat."

"Thought ye'd nivver ask."  
\- - "Thought you'd never ask."

"O' course. Ye'll be getting' the forst roond, right, Gunnar me lad? Wi' that haul from the fjord t'day, yee kin afford it, na?"  
\- - "Of course. You'll be getting' the first round, right, Gunnar my lad? With that haul from the fjord today, you can afford it, no?"

"Mebbies Ah kin, mebbies Ah kin't…."  
"Sure an yee kin, yee—hark, d'yee hear? Look, over yon."

\- - "Maybe I can, maybe I can't…."  
"Sure you can, you—wait, do you hear? Look, over there."

"O' course, lass. Here, tek a skilling or twa, gan buy yerself a hot pie,"  
\- - "Of course, girl. Here, take a skilling or two, go and buy yourself a hot pie,"

"Oh, please. We can't let a loverly young thing leek yee starve now, gan we? Not when the fish are jumpin' intee owor nets. Yee got a family, a home tuh ga tuh?"  
\- - "Oh, please. We can't let a lovely young thing like you starve now, can we? Not when the fish are jumping into our nets. You got a family, a home to go to?"

"Well, that makes it fair hardor, don't it Johan?" Gunnar asked. "Lots of Annas aroond here. Popular name, innit?"  
\- - "Well, that makes it rather harder, don't it Johan?" Gunnar asked. "Lots of Annas around here. Popular name, isn't it?"

"Red hair? Pigtails? Talks a lot? Yee think she means ald Ingrid's grand-bairn?" Johan asked, scratching his head. "Yee knaw, the lass who hung aroond the docks sometimes. Cute wee bairn. Hivvn't seen her in moonths."  
\- - "Red hair? Pigtails? Talks a lot? You think she means old Ingrid's grandchild?" Johan asked, scratching his head. "You know, the girl who hung around the docks sometimes. Cute little child. Haven't seen her in months."

"Little Anna Sommersdatter?" Gunnar shook his head. "Wait, she passed a'ay, didn't she, poor wee lass? End iv last year? Nar na, 'twas the start iv this, Ah recollect."  
\- - "Little Anna Sommersdatter?" Gunnar shook his head. "Wait, she passed away, didn't she, poor little girl? End of last year? No, no, it was the start if this, I remember."

"She's nae deed? Wot d'ya mean?"  
\- - "She's not dead? What do you mean?"

"With yee? An' who're yee?"  
\- - "With you? And who are you?"

"Elsa, eh? Pleased tuh meetcha, Elsa. I'm Gunnar, this 'ere beanpole is Johan."  
"Woah! Good 'eavens lass!" Johan gasped. "Nah need tah genuflect leek tha'! We ain't dooks!"

\- - "Elsa, eh? Pleased to meet you, Elsa. I'm Gunnar, and this here tall thin man is Johan."  
"Woah! Good heavens girl!" Johan gasped. "No need to genuflect like that! We are not dukes!"

"Yeah, that's what they call 'im, on account iv 'is black mood when the drink has him."  
\- - "Yes, that's what they call him, due to his black mood when the drink has him."

"Anyhows, you don't wannae be makin' 'im angry. The things he done to 'is poor wife…. Best nae tell a sweet young thang like yee too much, or you'll be havin' nightmares."  
\- - "Anyway, you don't want to be making him angry. The things he did to his poor wife…. Best not tell a sweet young thing like you too much, or you'll be having nightmares."

"Woah there, lass. I wouldnae be so eager to venture down there if I were ye. Damp, filthy warrens where the sun nivver shines. No person of common humanity would so much as stable 'is 'oss there."  
\- - "Woah there, girl. I wouldn't be so eager to venture down there if I were you. Damp, filthy warrens where the sun never shines. No person of common humanity would so much as stable his horse there."

"Waell, dinnae worry then," Gunnar said. "At thas taim o'day, if she's art sellin' Loosifers, she'll not be at home anyhows."  
\- - "Well, don't worry then," Gunnar said. "At this time of day, if she's out selling lucifers, she won't be at home anyway."

"Where the rich people are, innit? Yee know. Along that big fancy road, Femtegaten. Or Vestenden and Maimesse, out near the cassil, where the gentry is. The fancy public plazas, what-have-yee. Where those that hev the brass to buy matches are, innit? Them's that spiks aall posh like yee."  
\- - "Where the rich people are, right? You know. Along that big fancy road, Femtegaten. Or Vestenden and Maimesse, out near the castle, where the gentry are. The fancy public plazas, and so on. Where those that have the money to buy matches are, right? Those that speak all posh like you."

"Yeah, filthy as a beggar an' yet she talks leek a queen," Johan noted. "Neow, aboot that pint o' sommerøl yee owe me…."  
\- - "Yeah, filthy as a beggar and yet she talks like a queen," Johan noted. "Now, about that pint of sommerøl you owe me…."

"An' doncha worry, Cindy-relly, th' prince'll find yee," the girl was telling her doll, "an' when he does, he'll take yee away to live in his big castle, and yee'll nivver hafta et toast an' grey cabbage for dinner agin. Would ya like tha'? I shore knows Ah would, one day…."  
\- - "And don't you worry, Cinderella, the prince will find you," the girl was telling her doll. "And when he does, he'll take you away to live in his big castle, and you'll never have to eat toast and grey cabbage for dinner again. Would you like that? I sure know I would, one day…."

"What're yee doin' 'ere?" the man growled. "Yee sold aall the matches a'ready?"  
\- - "What are you doing here?" the man growled. "You sold all the matches already?"

"Yee didn't sell 'em? Then git back out there, yee useless slag! Wot the 'ell are yee doin' back withoot sellin' evarry last one, eh?"  
\- - "You didn't sell them? Then get back out there, you useless slag! What the hell are you doing back without selling every last one, eh?"

"Help me?" he growled. "Yee kin help me by doin' as you're telt, fo' a start! Git oot an' sell those matches! Or dee Ah hev to lay one on yee agyen, to remind yee?"  
\- - "Help me?" he growled. "You can help me by doing as you're told, for a start! Get out and sell those matches! Or do I have to lay one on you again, to remind you?"

"'Tweren't enough to buy me a crateful o' grog," her father snarled.  
\- - "It wasn't enough to buy me a crateful of grog," her father snarled.

"Aye, well, not aftor Ah lost it bettin' on the dogfights, reet?"  
\- - "Yes, well, not after I lost it betting on the dogfights, right?"

"'Tweren't yor brass, girl. Ah'm in charge o' this fam'ly an' its fi… finances!" He glared at Elsa, as if seeing her for the first time. "Who tuh Hell's dat?"  
\- - "'It wasn't your money, girl. I'm in charge of this family and its finances!" He glared at Elsa, as if seeing her for the first time. "Who the Hell's that?"

"Wot? You go an' live in the cassil? Don' be daft!"  
\- - "What? You go and live in the castle? Don't be stupid!"

"Nah, Ah don't leek it," he snarled. "Ya's stayin' reet 'ere where ah kin keep a proper eye on yee! Ah'll no hev yee run awa' from me agyen!"  
\- - "No, I don't like it," he snarled. "You're staying right here where I can keep a proper eye on you! I'll not have you run away from me again!"

"An' you just shut yer mouth! Ya's gettin' illusions o' granjer, huh?"  
\- - "And you just shut your mouth! You're getting delusions of grandeur, eh?"

"An' 'oo tuh 'ell are yee tuh be flappin' yer gob in mah 'ouse?" her father snarled.  
\- - "And who the hell are you to be flapping your mouth in my house?" her father snarled.

"Aye? Now Ah see it. So ya's the one wha' lured her awa'? Ya's the one who tried to took me bairn? Tryin' tuh rob me iv me livelihud?"  
\- - "Aye? Now I see it. So you're the one who lured her away? You're the one who tried to take my child? Trying to rob me of my livelihood?"

"Nay, it's ya's, y' ungrateful little brat."  
\- - "No, it's yours, you ungrateful little brat."

"Pappa, if yee let me go, if yee let me return, I telt yee b'fore, I can send yee money each week! I can come an' visit yee evarry Sunday!"  
\- - "Pappa, if you let me go, if you let me return, I told you before, I can send you money each week! I can come and visit you every Sunday!"

"An' why the devil shud Ah believe yor lyin' muuth?"  
\- - "An' why the devil should I believe your lying mouth?"

"It's you, blondie!" he growled. "Ya's tryin' to tek 'er from me! Yee wanna tek 'er out with yee on the street, whoring 'er out? Yee pasty-faced bitch, damn yee to Hell, yee gutter skank! Slag! Whore!"  
\- - "It's you, blondie!" he growled. "You're trying to take her from me! You want to take her out with you on the street, whoring her out? You pasty-faced bitch, damn you to Hell, you gutter skank! Slag! Whore!"


	19. Goddess of the Winter Winds

**19\. Goddess of the Winter Winds**

[**Last time on ****_Living Flower_**: Elsa finally managed to track down Anna, getting an eye-opening education into the poverty of Anna's upbringing in the process. However, Anna's father was furious at the idea that Elsa would steal Anna away, and in a desperate attempt to save her friend from being beaten yet again, Elsa accidentally killed him, just before her out-of-control ice destroyed the building.]

* * *

Elsa was floating in an open boat, gently drifting down a stream on a beautiful summer's morning. Her younger sister was seated at the other end, letting her hand languidly trail in the water as their father slowly punted the boat along the calm waters. With a sigh of contentment, Elsa turned the page of her book, starting the next chapter.

"How can you just sit there reading, not even looking at the scenery?" her sister asked, flicking a few drops of water towards Elsa and laughing cheekily.

"Really, do you have to do that?" the blonde girl said, pouting. "I'm trying to read!"

"Read? You're always reading. Can't you get your head out of your book? Look around you, relax, have fun for once!"

Elsa said nothing, but pretended to keep reading while letting her other hand stealthily slip down into the warm water. "As you wish!" she suddenly cried, splashing her sister with a handful of water.

The younger girl emitted a blood-curdling yell that froze Elsa's blood. She gasped, staring in horror at her sister as blood spurted from a huge wound on the other girl's body. A massive spike of ice was embedded in her flesh, pointing straight back to Elsa's hand. She had just time to glimpse one final look of abject terror on her sister's face, a desperate plea for help as her life drained away, before the other girl slowly toppled backwards into the river.

Elsa screamed, scrambling to the back of the boat. She could just make out her sister's face, slowly sinking to the bottom, her arm stretched up towards the sun she would never feel again.

"Do sit still, Elsa," her father called, continuing his slow punting. "You'll have us over in a minute."

The blonde girl looked back at her father, standing tall and strong, and bowed her head. "I'm sorry, father. I thought I saw something. Perhaps it was a fish."

"Or perhaps it was a mermaid," he said with a twinkle in his eye.

Elsa laughed. "Oh Pappa, isn't this grand? Just you and me, together."

"I'm glad you like it, my dear. I'm sure your sister's enjoying it as well. Why don't you ask her?"

"My sister?" Elsa asked, suddenly confused. "What do you mean, Pappa? I don't have a sister."

"Of course you do," he told her. "She's in your arms."

Feeling a sudden movement and a slight weight in her hands, Elsa looked down. Then she gasped in horror. A small creature, covered in blood, was squirming in her arms. It looked mostly human, but was only about six inches long, and seemed to have the vestiges of a tail. Elsa let out a piercing scream, her face white with fear, scrabbling to stand up, get away, escape this horrible thing.

"Elsa, do be quiet!" her father told her, smacking her hard in the head with the punting pole and knocking her down. "You'll wake the baby! You'll wake it. Wake! Wake up! Wake up!"

"NO!"

With a frantic yell of fright, the princess's eyes snapped open.

"She's awake!" someone called.

"What about the other girl?" another voice asked.

"Not yet. Still out."

"And the man? Adolf?"

"Dead as a doornail. Musta got crushed by a beam. The girls are lucky to be alive. Look at the blood on all of them—oh, this is a disaster!"

"How many others dead?"

"Just old Jakobs and his mother. God take their souls. Everyone else got out. I think."

Elsa groaned, her body aching all over. "Where… where am I?" she whispered.

"You all right, dearie?" a woman asked. "You're safe, don't worry. We found you under the rubble. Looks like a beam hit yee on the noggin."

She raised her head, carefully looking around. Her head was throbbing in pain, and it hurt to move it. She was lying on a pile of rags in a small, dark room, surrounded by people wearing rough, dirty clothing that in many cases was little better than rags. How had she got here? The last thing she remembered was… she was with Anna and her father… Anna's father had moved to hit her friend, and she had… she had…. Something. She couldn't remember. Her head was very painful. Had he hit her? It certainly felt like it…. No… wait…. She had… there was…. There was... ice….

"Oh, no…" she whispered, suddenly remembering how she had murdered her friend's father right in front of her eyes. "No, no, no…. Please, no…. This can't be real…."

What was she going to do? She was a murderess, a killer. She had killed her best friend's father. She was doomed. Did princesses go to prison? Would her parents throw her in a dungeon for the rest of her life? She started sobbing, weeping into the filthy rags that covered her. She desperately clutched her hands under the blanket, trying to concentrate on anything else other than her ice, her curse.

"Hey, Ma, I just got here!" a young man called, rushing into the room. "What the devil happened? What's all that ice?"

"There you are, Bjorg. Been drinking all evening again?"

"No! Least, not _all_ evening…."

"We heard shouts and screams," another man explained, "and then there was a blinding light. We all ran outside, and saw the tenements in the old Solberg house had completely collapsed."

"These two girls were found under it, safe—thank the Lord," the woman added.

"Thank the Lord?" another man cried. "The Lord has left us, abandoned us! Did yee no see that ice! There's something devilish going on here! Something wicked, unholy!"

"Aye, some foulness, I reckon!" another chimed in. "It was destroyed by a demon! A foul creature!"

"Witchcraft!" another said. "A witch stalks us this day!"

Elsa felt her heart thump, hoping desperately that they would not suspect her, not realize that the person that brought this ruin and destruction was already among them, lying helpless. That she was the witch, the foul creature that destroyed the house. That killed a man. That hurt her friend. She was the monster they feared and hated. She shivered, fearful of what the mob might do if they suspected her; if they knew she was the killer.

"Oh, she's cold!" someone called. "Get her another blanket! Anyone got a blanket?"

"Here!" someone called, and Elsa found an old grey moth-eaten shawl being laid across her. She looked up, trying to see who had given it to her.

"Tha… thank you," she said to the middle-aged woman kneeling over her.

"Just relax, dearie. You're safe now."

"Where… where am I?"

"Ye're in my home, lass," the woman said. "Mine and my brood. I'm Gina Krog."

"Very pleased to meet you, Mrs Krog," the princess said. "I'm… I'm Elsa. Elsa... uh, er... Gerdasdatter." Then she remembered her friend. "Where's Anna? Anna!" she cried, struggling to rise.

"Woah, steady, lass. Yer friend's safe—she's right there."

Elsa looked over and saw the young redhead lying nearby, her head resting on a pile of rags. An old woman was gently wiping away the blood from her head wound, stroking her hair at the same time.

"Is… is she all right?"

"She's out cold, and her arm's swollen and bruised," Krog told her. She shook her head. "Poor Anna. First her grandmother, now her father. She's all alone in the world now."

"No, she's not," Elsa said, sitting up, waving aside the hands of someone who tried to keep her lying down. Her head exploded in pain, but she ignored it. "She's got me."

"An' who're you?"

"I'm her… I'm her friend," Elsa said, hoping that the younger girl would still see her as that when she woke. "I am… a maid in the service of the royal family. Anna has been working there since the New Year as well. Please, take us back there. You will be well rewarded."

"Well rewarded?" someone scoffed.

"Hush, Simen," Krog said, then looked back at the redhead. "Maids, in the castle?" she murmured. "So that's where young Anna got to. Well, I hope it was more pleasant for her than here, at any rate."

"She… she did like it," Elsa said in a low voice. "And I liked having her there. She… she was my friend." _At least, she was my friend_, she thought to herself sadly. She had just killed her father, after all. How angry would Anna be at her? She knew that in her place, she would never be able to get over it, never forgive the person who killed her father. The thought of losing Anna as a friend was even worse than simply never being able to see her again. With the latter, there was always hope—the hope that one day, in the future, they could reunite. But if Anna became her enemy, then what? What hope was there for her? Did she even deserve to be a part of Anna's life?

With a low moan of despair, Elsa broke down and wept, hunching herself into a tight ball, heedless of the pain. Then she felt a hand on her head, gently stroking her hair.

"There, there, dearie. Ye've had a shock and no mistake. Just don't worry about a thing. You're safe."

_I'm not worried about my safety_, Elsa thought to herself in despair. _The question is, how safe are you around me? How safe is anyone? Perhaps I should just flee, run far away into the mountains, and live like a hermit, where I could never harm anyone again…._ Then she thought of Anna, lying there injured, because of her, and knew that she could never run. She had to remain strong for her friend. After all, she was all Anna had left in this world now. Even if Anna hated her for what she had done, she would still make sure that Anna was taken care of. She owed her nothing less. Now that she had killed her last remaining family member….

"Lass?" the woman asked, interrupting Elsa's morbid thoughts. "Are you all right, Elsa?"

Elsa turned tear-filled eyes on the matronly woman who was leaning over her. She reminded her, in a way, of Mrs Gerdason—the same warm, caring attitude, the same air of calm wisdom in the midst of chaos. Mrs Gerdason could fix everything. She always could. Elsa had to get back to her, to her home. Then she grimaced, clutching her stomach as it growled. "Sorry," she said, embarrassed by the sudden unladylike noise.

"What was the last time yee ate, dearie?" the woman asked gently.

"Uh… dinner last night," Elsa admitted truthfully. "I… well, I couldn't afford to buy anything today."

"Oh, yee poor wee lass! Harold, can yee bring over the last o' that fish porridge from yesterday? There should be some good bits left."

"Oh, no, please," Elsa said, too wracked with guilt to feel like eating. "I'm not that hungry, truly. You have so little—you should keep it for yourselves."

"Now we'll have none o' that talk, missie. There's no folk so poor that they can't offer a morsel of hospitality to guests. Here's the porridge. Now get that down yee."

A small bowl, half-filled with a cold watery gruel made from oats, potatoes, and boiled fish was thrust in front of the princess, who felt ill at the sight. But how could she reject this offering? She had dined in state at banquets hosted by the noblest lords in the land, tables groaning with roast geese, cakes, and all manner of expensive delicacies literally fit for a king. But even the grandest feast had not represented as great a sacrifice as the lumpy miasma within the chipped bowl she now held: those lords had offered of their abundance, but this gruel was these peoples' very sustenance. The princess found herself unable to keep her tears from falling.

"There, there. We all know what it is not to be able to afford a meal," the woman said, stroking Elsa's long blonde hair. "Go on. You can have the entire bowl."

"Th… thank you," Elsa whispered, feeling overwhelmed as she gazed at the pathetic meal in front of her. The sort of meal that Anna would once have counted herself lucky to eat. She dipped the battered tin spoon in, and took a small mouthful. It tasted rancid, but she forced herself to chew and swallow, and quickly washed it down with a cup of rainwater. Shivering, she took another spoonful, which went down a little better. Then, as the young girl's hunger suddenly overcame her guilt and revulsion, she wolfed the lot, noisily slurping down the gruel.

"Thank you very much," she said, her face pink with embarrassment at her table manners as she handed the bowl back. "I won't forget your hospitality. You shall be repaid a hundredfold."

Krog laughed. "Don't trouble yourself, lass. Such poor hospitality as it is, after all."

"I… we really need to get back," Elsa said. "Before it gets too late."

"Oh, it's already after dark, lassie."

Elsa glanced out the window. There was no sign of light outside. "Oh no! What time is it?" she gasped. "How long was I out?"

"You were asleep a good many hours," the woman said. "And with a bump like that on yee noggin, I'm not surprised. Why not stop here 'till the morn, and then yee can head off home? We'll have someone watch over you, keep the rats off you."

"Besides, wee Anna's still out," someone else said. "Best let her sleep."

"Oh dear," Elsa moaned, feeling her head where a large lump was already forming. "I don't want my parents to worry—they must think I'm dead, or kidnapped, or worse. And... and the head housekeeper will punish us," she added, unhappy with the lie, but knowing that the truth would be even worse.

"Yee have parents yet living?" the woman asked, looking surprised. "You're a lucky girl, you know that? They must be so worried."

"I know they will be," Elsa said. "And… I know I am. Sometimes I haven't always known it. But I am…." Then Elsa heard a low moan from the other bed, and gasped. "Anna! Is she awake?"

"Not yet," Harold told her. "She's still out. Got a fever or something, looks like. She's shivering."

"I… I… oh, my head." Elsa struggled to stand up, grabbing the woman's hand and levering herself to a standing position. A wave of nausea swept over her, and it was only by closing her eyes tightly and willing herself to remain calm that she suppressed it. She staggered over to her friend, and sank down beside her.

"Oh, Anna, Anna, I am so very sorry," she said softly, wanting to touch her, hold her tight, try and warm her, but knowing that the Ice Princess's touch was only one of cold death. "Oh, Anna, please, wake up," she whispered. She held her hand over the other girl's chest briefly, knowing she was too scared, too nervous to be able to control her power properly, let alone to remove any coldness within Anna. She looked down at her shivering friend, her lips blue, suffering because of what she had done, and felt a great agonized void in her heart. She could almost sense her guilt like a living thing, gnawing away at her from the inside.

"We've given her all the blankets and sheets we can find," Krog said softly. "Now her fate is in the hands of God."

Elsa shook her head. "No. It's in my hands." She gave a small, bitter laugh at that, then looked up at the woman. "Blankets aren't enough. Don't you have a fire, some firewood?"

"Uh, no, not here, sorry," Krog stammered. "Only a few faggots for tea."

Elsa looked around the room, knowing that even in winter there would not have been enough wood or coal to even heat this small space. She would have to take Anna to the castle, where there was always a store of firewood on hand ready to melt any ice she might accidentally create. And hopefully, she thought sadly, enough to melt Anna's heart.

"Please, you have to help me carry her to the castle. The… uh, the kitchen range is always on, and it'll be warm enough there."

"Oh, it's far too late to be wandering around, lassie. The streets ain't safe at this time o' night."

Elsa shook her head. "No, we have to! She'll die if we leave her here, and I… I couldn't bear that. I won't be responsible for her death. Not as well…."

"Come now, lass, you aren't responsible for any deaths. Don't be daft. I suppose you're right—if she has a warm home to return to, we should get her there. Anna's got a better place now, after all. Right then, young Bjorn Bjorgsen, you carry the wee lass, and for Heaven's sake, be careful! We'll take some of the quieter alleys – they should be safe enough. Elsa, here, hold onto my arm."

Clinging to the woman, Elsa managed to get to her feet, and stood there, feeling ill as Krog's son carefully picked Anna up. She wanted nothing more than to just lie down and sleep, preferably for ever, but knew she had to get back. She had to get her friend back, back to the warmth and comfort of her home.

* * *

"I do wish people would stop rushing about," Hans drawled. "A lad can't get a moment's peace to grab a fag in private. What's all the fuss about, anyway?"

Hilde stared up at him. "What? The princess is missing! How can you not know that, Hans?"

The footman shrugged. "I know she's missing. I still don't see why we have to care."

"We have to care, you inconsiderate youth," Kaisson snarled, "because there is a young, innocent child lost out there in the city, and if, God forbid, something were to happen to her, Arendelle would be left without an heir."

Hans sneered. "And this affects me, how? It's not as if who runs this little pimple of a kingdom matters to serfs like us."

"That is quite enough!" Kaisson thundered, his face red. "Get out! I will not tolerate that sort of disrespect here! The rest of you! Stop loitering around the Servants' Hall! Even in this anxious hour we all have work to do. And while you work, I would encourage all of you to spare a moment to pray for the safety of our precious princess. Dismissed!"

"Hilde, you haven't yet cleaned the plates from lunch," Mrs Gerdason told her, her face stern.

"Cleaned the plates? But isn't that Hanna's job now, ma'am?"

The housekeeper frowned. "Who? Who's Hanna?"

"The new maid—Anna's replacement," Hilde said, feeling annoyed.

Gerdason shook her head. "There is no new replacement for Anna," she said, looking puzzled.

"Yes there is. I saw her this morning," Hilde said. "Gave her the milk for the kitchen, and haven't seen her since, the lazy little skiver."

The housekeeper carried on shaking her head, looking at Hilde strangely.

"I recall meeting a Hanna a while back, in the stable with Anna," Kaisson added, moving over to them. "But she said she had been here some time..."

"We still don't have any maids called Hanna," Gerdason said emphatically.

"Oh come on," Hilde said. "Uh, ma'am. She's about this tall, long blonde hair, really pale blonde, blue eyes, talks like she's putting on airs and graces…." Hilde suddenly stopped, her heart in her mouth. "Wait…. Long blonde hair, blue eyes, posh…" she whispered to herself, frantically searching her memory for more details of exactly what the new maid had looked like. "Oh… oh my God!" she exclaimed. "Oh my God! It was… it was her!"

"Whatever are you on about, girl?" Gerdason snapped.

"Ma'am, I saw her! I saw her!"

"Saw who? This girl Hanna?"

"No! She was the princess!"

"The princess?" Gerdason gasped. "Where? When?"

"Here, this morning, and… and she was dressed like a maid! And… and she was talking about Anna! Mrs Gerdason, I think I know where she's gone!"

Kaisson staggered and sat heavily in the nearest chair. "The princess," he muttered to himself, his face white. "She was the princess all this time…."

The housekeeper's eyes had grown wider and wider, and now she nodded at Hilde. "I think you'd better come with me, girl."

"Wh—where are we going?"

"You, my girl, are going to see the king."

* * *

"I beg your pardon, Your Majesties…."

King Agdar left off talking with the captain of his guards at the soft voice. Sighing, he rubbed his forehead. "Mrs Gerdason? Can this wait? You'll understand we are somewhat engaged at the moment."

The housekeeper remained hovering at the study door. "My apologies, Majesty. It is about Her Highness that I have come."

"What do you mean?" the queen asked.

"Your Majesty, one of my maids has an idea as to where Her Highness might be."

"One of your maids?" the queen repeated, raising an eyebrow. "How could she possibly have any idea?"

The king held her shoulder firmly, reassuring her with his presence. "We would grasp at any idea, no matter how impossible, right now," he said. "What has she to say?"

"I have taken the liberty of bringing her with me, ma'am," Gerdason said. "You can speak with her directly, should you wish."

"Oh? Send her in," the queen said.

A young girl, dressed in a kitchen-maid's outfit, nervously entered the room behind the housekeeper. The queen looked at her, taking in her entire form, frowning slightly.

"What does this child… uh…."

"Hilde, Majesty," Gerdason said.

"Hilde," the queen continued, nodding. "What does she know, Mrs Gerdason?"

"Go ahead, Hilde," the housekeeper said, giving the girl a slight push.

"P… please, Yer Majesty," Hilde said, twisting her hands together. "It's about… about the princess, Yer Majesty."

"Yes?" the queen snapped, rather more harshly than she had intended. "If you know where she is, if you have any information…."

"Well, that is," Hilde stammered, "I think… I mean, I think she's gone to find Anna."

"Anna! That deceitful child!" the queen spat. "We know that! And she's the reason my darling is missing! She lured her away!"

"Now, Idun, calm yourself," the king said, putting his arm around his wife's shoulders to relax her. "You read her letter. You know that's not true."

"It's still the reason she's missing!" Idun retorted.

"Yes, well, that's not Anna's fault," Agdar said soothingly. He looked over at the maid. "Hilde, do you know where Anna is?"

The young girl looked petrified for a moment, then nodded.

"Well, where then? Don't be scared, Hilde."

"Er, Your Majesty sir," Hilde said, her face pale and anxious. "Anna, she… that is to say… I can't give yee the exact address, but… I know the area. We… er, I used to live in the same part of town."

"Where? Where?" the queen asked quickly.

"Uh, Hvitekapellet, Majesty. Down near the… the docks."

"Hvitekapellet…?" the king mused, stroking his moustache. "I don't recollect the name…."

"Begging your Majesties' pardon," the housekeeper murmured. "It's where the labouring classes live. The dockworkers, the poor, those who cannot or will not work. It is… not a pleasant area."

"And my little girl's down there?" the queen gasped, clapped a hand to her mouth. "Send out the guards! Send every soldier in the kingdom there immediately! If so much as a hair on her pretty little head is harmed, I'll…!"

"Idun, dear, don't worry. Captain Andersen! You heard Her Majesty. Order the Royal Guard to direct all searches to this Hvitekapellet area, immediately!"

"At once, Your Majesty," the minister said, bowing and leaving the room.

"We all pray she will be found safe and sound, Your Majesties," Gerdason murmured.

"Yes, well, thank you very much Mrs Gerdason," the king said. "This is the first good news we've had all day."

The queen moved over to Hilde, who kept her head bowed. "And thank you, child," she said. "I am most grateful. You will be rewarded. Now go. You may resume your duties now."

"Yes, Your Majesty. Thank you, Your Majesty," Hilde said, curtseying as low as she could, before carefully backing out of the room. Mrs Gerdason followed after her, leaving the king and queen alone in the king's study.

"Don't worry, my dear," Agdar said, moving to the window to gaze out over the city where his little girl was lost. He took a deep breath, willing himself to remain strong, to remain the pillar of support his wife needed now. He could hear her slump down in her chair, sobbing gently.

"Oh, Elsa, my darling little girl," she murmured. "Why did you run? Please, come back to me…. I'm so sorry… for everything I've done to you…."

* * *

The small band, carrying their precious burden, came around a corner and into the large main town square. To Elsa's surprise, the square was busy with soldiers rapidly trotting back and forth, but otherwise empty. Beyond it, the castle was lit up, almost every window aglow, and she could hear the shouts of raised voices. Then she realised why, and felt her heart sink. How worried must her parents be? She shrank back, her heart pounding.

"You people! Leave the square now!" a soldier called. "All citizens are required to remain in their homes during the search!"

"Search? What search?" Krog asked.

"Her Royal Highness is missing, presumed kidnapped. Soldiers are going door to door!"

"But… but we have an injured girl, a maid who lives in the castle," Krog said, gesturing to Anna, who was being carefully cradled by Bjorgsen.

"Don't care. No entrance to the castle. No matter who."

"But…!"

The guard grabbed the woman by the arm as two more soldiers came up and glared at them. "If you aren't out of here in three seconds, you and all these street rats will be tossed in the dungeon."

"No, no, we'll leave," Krog stammered, trying to back off. She looked over at Elsa, who had been hanging back. "I'm sorry, dearie. We have to go back."

"No. We can't." Elsa took a deep breath, remembering who she was, her training. "Let her go," she said quietly to the soldier, her voice coldly imperative. "That's an order."

"Ho! An order!" the soldier cried, as the other soldiers laughed. "Hark, we have a young queen here!"

"Not a queen," Elsa said, stepping further into the light, and glaring up at the guard. "Just a princess."

The man stared at her, anger on his face, which then changed to wide-eyed amazement. To the utter astonishment of the two tenement-dwellers, he immediately dropped to one knee, bowing his head, followed by the other two soldiers.

"Your Highness! I beg your pardon!" he cried. "I did not recognize you!"

"You weren't supposed to," Elsa said, a resigned half-smile on her face. "Get up."

"I shall escort you to your royal parents immediately! Men! Men! The princess has returned to us! Inform their majesties!"

Krog and Bjorgsen looked on in nervous apprehension as they were suddenly surrounded by dozens of soldiers, who all knelt before the blonde girl.

"The… the princess...?" Bjorgsen stammered. "But… how...?"

"Elsa!" Krog gasped. "Oh saints above! _Princess_ Elsa! She was the princess all the time! Bjorn, yee daft gowk, show some respect!" she hissed, quickly prostrating herself.

"No, no, stop!" Elsa called. "Please, rise! I'm sorry for deceiving you. Yes, I am the princess. But I am also Anna's friend, and her life is in danger. You!" she added, pointing to a guard. "Run back to the castle and tell Kaisson to light the fire in my bedroom. Tell him to make it as hot as he can!"

"At once, Highness!" the soldier said, then dashed off.

"Mr Bjorgsen, Mrs Krog, please follow me," Elsa said, gesturing as she headed to the bridge, and to her home.

"Er, are… should we...?" Bjorgsen stammered in confusion. What had just happened? The maid, Elsa, a friend of Black Adolf's poor child, was… the Princess Elsa? How was that possible? Like every Arendellian, he had seen portraits of the royal family, and it was true that Elsa's pale blonde hair and deep blue eyes were exactly like the paintings, but this was Scandinavia—such colouring was far from uncommon. Then again, she did have a very regal, educated voice—but didn't all people who lived in the castle, even the maids, speak like that? Even young Anna's speech had changed remarkably. So how could...?

"Hurry up!" his mother told him, cuffing him on the head. "Don't keep the princess waiting!"

"My apologies, O noble Highness," Bjorgsen mumbled, shifting Anna's weight as he walked after them as fast as he dared. He couldn't believe his eyes as he found himself pass through the great gates, which were thrown open as they neared, and into the courtyard. People surrounded them, some reaching out for Anna, but the princess commanded them to stop, and then personally opened the main door of the castle herself.

In a daze, overwhelmed by the pomp and luxury of his surroundings, Bjorgsen followed the blonde girl up a wide flight of steps to a large bedchamber, high and airy, with a tall, ornate bed against one wall. A fire was being quickly fed in the fireplace, filling the room with even more heat in the summer night.

"Wait," Elsa said, ripping back the covers from the bed. "Put her in there."

"Ye…yes, O princess," Bjorgsen stammered, gently laying the unconscious redhead down on the soft, clean sheets. Then the princess herself pulled the covers back over the child, tucking her in tenderly.

"Anna…" she said, gently stroking the other girl's cold forehead. "I'm so sorry."

Anna murmured, stirring, and Elsa felt her heart jump.

"No… no..." the redhead muttered unconsciously. "So... cold…."

Elsa snatched her hand away, holding it in her other and biting her lip. How could she even think of trying to comfort the injured girl? Her hands were the hands of death. Elsa quickly moved to her drawers, and withdrew another pair of gloves, which she put on, covering her traitorous hands.

There was a brief knock on the door, and Kaisson entered.

"Highness, your royal parents are here," the butler said softly.

Elsa felt her heart thump in her chest as the king and queen entered. She looked over them nervously, wondering what they would say, what she could say.

"Elsa! My child!" the queen cried, rushing up to her daughter. She threw her arms around her, hugging her tightly while the king advanced more slowly, smiling broadly.

"Mamma!" Elsa whimpered. "I'm so sorry! Please, don't be too angry! I had to rescue her!"

"Oh, Elsa, why did you have to run off like that? Why couldn't you say something?"

"I… I tried," Elsa said. "But you wouldn't let me. You told me to forget about her," the princess said. "But I couldn't! We're friends, and I don't care that she's a maid! I'd prefer to be a maid myself with a real friend than be a princess all alone in my room!"

"Yes, well, we'll discuss that later," the king said, eyeing the two poor people.

"Ah. Mother, Father, this is Mr Bjorgsen and Mrs Krog. They rescued us from the collapsed house."

"Wait, what? What collapsed house?" the queen gasped. "Elsa! What happened?"

"I… that is… er…" the princess stammered, wondering how she could ever explain what she had done.

"Begging yer pardon, Your Majesties," Krog said, curtseying clumsily. "The old Solberg house, down Hvitekapellet way—that is, young Anna's home—collapsed."

"Collapsed? What do you mean? How?"

"I must tell yee, Yer Majesty, it be the work of the devil," Bjorgsen added. "Great spikes of ice, in the middle of summer!"

"Ice!" the queen gasped. She stared at Elsa, her eyes searching. The princess bit her lip and stared at the floor, sniffing back tears.

"Most interesting," the king said smoothly as the queen moved to comfort her daughter, shielding her from the view of the strangers. "Well, it probably won't happen again, but we'll send a priest down to bless the site just in case. Don't you worry about a thing. Thank you very much for returning our child to us. Kaisson, see that they are well rewarded. A dozen gold coins each, I think."

"Your Majesty!" Krog suddenly prostrated herself on the floor, bowing her head, and Bjorgsen quickly followed. "You do us too much honour!"

"Yes, well, loyalty is always rewarded," the king said. "Now do please get up."

"Yes, Your Majesty!" they both cried. "Thank you, Your Majesty! Long live Your Majesty—Your Majesties!"

The king and queen nodded acknowledgements as Kaisson directed Bjorgsen and Krog out of the room. Then the queen stepped back from Elsa, and gazed at her child.

"I think you'd better tell us exactly what happened," she said in a quiet voice.

Elsa glanced at the sleeping girl, and felt her eyes brim with tears again. "It was an accident," she whispered. "I didn't mean to do it. I didn't mean to kill him…."

She heard a sharp intake of breath from her mother.

"Kill… who?" the king asked after a short pause.

"An… Anna's father," Elsa whispered. "He… he was going to hurt her. He was beating her. I tried to protect her, and… and… my curse…. It came out… it killed him. I… killed him. The ice—my ice. I didn't even know it had happened. I just wanted to protect her. I just wanted to protect her!" Elsa finished, her voice rising into a wail of despair. "Mamma! I killed someone! I'm a witch! A wicked, evil monster!"

"No, you are not," the queen said, shaking her head frantically. "That was self-defence! You are not a monster! You are not evil! Please, Elsa, don't ever think that!"

Elsa gave a low moan of despair. "But I am. Why is this happening to me? Am I cursed?" she asked softly. "Am I cursed by God? Have I been punished by God for something?"

There was a long silence. Eventually the queen sighed and rubbed her forehead. "No, Elsa. You have not. The one who is being punished is I."

"Mamma—you? Why? How?"

"We shouldn't talk about this here. Come to my study."

With a glance at her father, who nodded at her, his face solemn, Elsa followed her mother the short distance to the Queen's Study, a small antechamber near the larger King's Study.

"Sit down, Elsa," the queen said, her voice strained. She sat in another chair, and looked at her child, biting her lip. Elsa was surprised to see tears forming in her mother's eyes. But she remained silent, waiting, her heart pounding in apprehension.

The queen eventually let out a long, soft sigh. "Oh, Elsa, my darling child. I knew this day would come. From the moment you were born, I knew. And yet no matter how you prepare yourself… it's still hard…."

"Prepare yourself...?" Elsa stammered. "For what?"

"Before you were born, your father and I, we wished so very hard to have a baby. We did everything we could. I prayed for a child, but… nothing happened. I was… I was afraid, my darling, so very afraid. I was afraid your father would reject me, would divorce me in favour of a queen who could produce heirs. I loved him so much, I didn't want to disappoint him—or be sent away in shame. So I… I found a way. In the arcane lore of our pagan ancestors..."

"Pagan?" Elsa gasped. "Mother, what did you do?"

The queen swallowed, and fiddled with her lace cuffs. "I went deep into the mountains, to the Hall of the Mountain King, and consulted the _noaidi_, the ancient Sami shaman."

Elsa's eyes went round. "But—but that's _seidhr_—sorcery! Witchcraft!"

The queen nodded, tears trickling down her face. "I was… I was desperate, my dear. I would have done anything. But I was warned there would be… consequences. A price to pay."

"By me…." Her mind numb with shock, Elsa slowly stood up, removing her glove and staring at her right hand. She flexed her fingers, and snow crystals appeared in the glowing air, dancing gently. A twirl of her wrist, and the snowflakes formed an elegant pattern, then drifted down to the carpet. "How… how does this happen?" she whispered.

"It is a manifestation of Biegkegaellies, the God of the Winter Winds," the queen said, looking up at her daughter with eyes that could not quite keep the fear out of them. "To grant me a child, the _noaidi_ sacrificed to Bieggolmai, the God of the Summer Winds. To give me a child as bright and sunny and warm as summer. But… but his twin Biegkegaellies grew angry, and demanded that balance be returned to the cosmos. I was never supposed to bear children!" the queen sobbed. "The cosmos had to be balanced! Summer and winter. Hope and despair. Life and death…."

"So… I'm winter," Elsa breathed. "Despair, death…."

"No, no, Elsa!" the queen gasped, her eyes wild and her voice cracking. "You're my summer, my hope, my life! Which is… which is why…."

"Which is why I can do this," Elsa said. She made a quick motion, then flicked her wrist. A shard of ice slashed across the room, striking the fireplace. "You longed for summer, you tried to subvert the balance of the cosmos, so got winter in its place. Cold death. Creating ice and snow." She stopped and looked at her mother, her eyes narrowed. "I'm not the first, am I?"

"Not the first?" the queen gasped, looking terrified. "What… what do you mean?"

"There have been others, before me?"

Elsa's mother gave a nervous little laugh. "Elsa, darling, I don't know what you mean…."

"Really? Because I've been reading some of our old fairy tales, from all over Scandinavia, and in some of them, they talk about a creature called… called the _Snødronningen_. Is that… is that what I am?"

"Oh. The Snow Queen? Oh, yes, those. There were." The queen passed a hand over her brow. "I don't know much about them, Elsa. I just know that…"

"That I will be one of them," the princess said, sitting down again with a heavy sigh. She felt almost like crying, but no tears came. They would probably be tears of ice, she reflected. Elsa pulled her glove back on, and put her hands in her lap. There was one other question she had to ask. "Mother... what happened to those other Snow Queens?"

The queen bit her lip, but remained silent.

"Mother?" Elsa asked again, a slight edge to her voice. There was still no response. "Mother! I have to know. Please!"

The queen swallowed. "I… I don't know. I don't know about all of them. But some… some died young. They were… not allowed to live…."

Elsa felt as if her heart had stopped. She could hear ice crackling, creaking as it spread out from her feet.

"Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live," she quoted in a quiet, calm voice.

The queen stared at her, her face full of horror and sadness. "But Elsa, that was a long time ago, when people still believed in witches and demons, still believed the devil was stalking this world! This is the 1830s, the nineteenth century! The age of science and reason! No one would ever want to harm you!"

"Then why are you so scared? Why have you kept me hidden away all these years?" Elsa asked, her voice icily calm.

"Because… because I was ashamed. Of what I had done to you. I wanted to protect you, keep you safe from prying eyes. Keep you with people who understood you, accepted you. Oh, Elsa…. Please, forgive me. I'm so sorry…."

There was a long silence, during which Elsa and her mother sat, not looking at each other. Then the Ice Princess let out a long, soft sigh. She finally understood. Understood why she was… what she was. And she also understood one other thing. "So that's why I'll always be alone..." she whispered.

"Elsa, I'm so sorry…."

The room slowly filled with gently drifting snowflakes as the young princess curled up in her chair and wept for what she was, what she had become.

.

* * *

**KNOWTES**

I was hoping to have this up earlier, but it wasn't coming together properly. And it ended up covering a fair bit less than I had planned, so what was going to be one chapter is now going to be two (this is not unusual with my stories). And getting the structure of it was a lot harder than I expected, and involved a lot of reordering. I'm not entirely happy with the present form, but don't know how to reorder it better without cutting out a lot of moments I want to keep in, like Elsa's meal (which is based in part on the famous "Lesson of the Widow's Mite" [a "mite" is a very small coin] from the Bible—it's not how much you give, but how much you sacrifice). After all, the poor girl hasn't eaten all day, and I didn't want her to go to bed hungry….

I've toned down the lower-class dialect a lot in this chapter—I have quite a few non-native readers, and don't want to make it too much harder than it has to be. It also works thematically I guess—Elsa has stopped seeing them as lesser to her.

"Krog" is named after Gina Krog, who founded the Women's Suffrage Union in Norway in 1885. There is no real need to give her a real person's name, but I didn't want to just select one at random. Something at least vaguely connected with the character's issues was preferable.

The surname Elsa gives, "Gerdasdatter," is actually what I should have called Gerdason to begin with. My initial research into Norwegian naming conventions didn't go deep enough—as I noted in the Knowtes to the previous chapter. As should be clear in this chapter, this is not a hint that Elsa is actually Gerdason's daughter, despite what the lazy writers of _Once Upon A Time_ might think….

I was going to have Anna's arm be broken, but early 19th century medicine is not something you want to muck about with—Anna doesn't deserve that pain. And I don't want her out of commission for months. So it's merely badly bruised.

The bit about keeping the rats off sleeping people is another bit I borrowed from my research into life in the Victorian slums.

The Hall of the Mountain King is a shoutout to Edvard Grieg of course, that most famous of Norwegian composers. Check out his Peer Gynt Suite if you like. Highly recommended, and contains some very famous music. No actual singouts in this chapter, however.

The _noaidi _is the name of the traditional Sami shaman, as stated in the text. _Seiðr _is also a type of sorcery used by them. Biegkegaellies, the God of the Winter Winds, and Bieggolmai, the God of the Summer Winds, are also deities, but the whole thing about them granting the ability to have children, and the rivalry and need for balance between them, has been completely invented by me for this story. However it fits in with the themes of the whole story, not to mention the original film with the two balancing girls, and also provides a sort of explanation for something that the film completely glossed over (mainly as their original idea was really, really stupid). In this explanation, Elsa doesn't create the snow herself, as such—that is from the God of the Winter Winds. She is merely the conduit by which this magical snow enters the world. This, incidentally, would also explain Olaf and Marshmallow in the film: Elsa doesn't give them life, Biegkegaellies does, through her. (I don't see this as weakening her powers, as in the end, it's really the same thing. And it's far better than just leaving it as a loose end, like what Elsa planned to actually **eat** in her Fortress of Solitude….)

If it isn't completely obvious, "Snødronningen" is Norwegian for "Snow Queen."

Also, **Guest**, good point about "winding" – I was just feeling too snarky about English to think the matter through enough. In fact, I used "winding" in the very chapter in question….

[**Edited**: 2015/2/14: "gently drifted snowflakes"? Oh dear. How did I miss that?]

[**Edited**: 30 March 2015: Yet more editing snafus...]

[**Edited**: 24 April 2015: Some minor style issues corrected.]


	20. A Dry Remnant of a Garden Flower

**20\. A Dry Remnant of a Garden Flower**

[**Last time on ****_Living Flower_**: Elsa and Anna have returned to the castle after Elsa's magic killed Anna's father and destroyed their home. However, Anna is still unconscious. Elsa has forced her mother to explain exactly why she has this power, and been told it was a curse from the ancient gods, the price to pay so the queen could give the king an heir.]

* * *

Elsa was unable to sleep. At her mother's insistence, Anna had been moved, but only to the spare bedroom, as Elsa had refused point blank to allow her to be returned to the servants' quarters until she was quite well. She was determined to do whatever she could to ensure her friend recovered as soon as possible. However, even though Anna was as well taken care of as she could be, Elsa was still unable to relax. She tossed and turned, trying to sleep, but her mind was full of the events of the day, and its nightmarish conclusion. She kept replaying those final moments in Anna's home over and over in her mind, wishing beyond wishing that she could go back and stop herself.

But she couldn't. It had happened, and there was nothing, nothing at all, she could do about it. The finger of fate had written, and moved on, and all her tears could not wash out a word of it. She had been weighed, and found wanting. Because she had failed to control her curse.

Elsa sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time that night, staring up at the elegant dark reddish-pink canopy. It seemed to almost mock her in its prosaic ordinariness. Nothing had changed around her, but inside… inside she felt she barely even remembered who she was. Because what was she, if not the uncontrolled, chaotic heart of winter itself? Was she even really human? Cursed by the ancient God of the Winter Winds, the product of some wrathful deity jealous of his usurped prerogative, she should never have been born. Her very existence was an abomination—she had always been a monster, a freak.

And now… and now she was also a killer….

How dare everything seem so ordinary, so normal? Her books, her microscope, all the tools she had used to try and understand the natural world, to try and find why she had this power, or to try and lose herself from its chaos in the ordered systems of science and mathematics…. They had all failed her. They had mocked her with their promise of answers. With the promise of a world that was rational, that made sense. That could be understood, controlled. Well, she had seen just how much control she had achieved….

Suddenly furious, Elsa threw back the covers and sat up. Her room felt stifling, choking. This was the bedroom of a princess, a young girl, an innocent child—not a killer. A murderer. It was a place for humans, not monsters like her. No wonder she could not sleep there. Without even bothering to put on her dressing gown, Elsa fled into the dark, silent corridors of the castle.

The corridors were filled with a cool, dim green light, filtering down from the sky where the aurora was flowing like a heavenly stream, slow and ponderous. Fainter than the mighty banners they were in the dark winter skies, they gave almost no illumination; pale trails of coloured smoke in the dusky night. But the princess knew the castle intimately, and walked unhesitatingly through the corridors and chambers, heading up to her eyrie in the topmost tower.

Up here, breathing the cool air, she felt she could finally breathe. Perhaps she should stay up here, she thought. Alone, remote, cut off from all human contact. Living in isolation was the only way she could prevent herself from hurting others ever again.

"I won't. Not again. I promise," she whispered, looking out the window at the city below, over the harbour. She stroked the cool metal of her telescope, the only way she dared view her people now. No more would she dare venture among them. It was the only way to be sure. To keep them safe. The fears that now controlled her would not affect them here.

"You're all down there, warm and happy together, and I'll always be looking in from the outside, cold, alone above you all," she whispered. Then she sighed, and swallowed, feeling a lump in her throat. "It's so hard to be alone…."

Elsa slumped onto the floor, her back against the wall, and gazed up at the sky. The shimmering green curtains swayed gently, and she found herself unable to look away. She almost felt as if she could hear them, a gentle, far-off susurration, at the threshold of her hearing. They were whispering to her, calling to her. Closing her eyes against the pull of those unearthly skies, she let the murmurs of the aurora take her, lull her into a dispassionate calm, finally relaxing her.

Several hours later, Kaisson carefully carried the sleeping princess down to her own room, where Gerdason tucked her in as the queen watched anxiously, greatly relieved her child had been found so easily this time.

* * *

"Good morning, Your Highness."

"Mmmm?" Elsa murmured. Her eyes flickered open, revealing the familiar shape of her bedroom. For a brief moment, everything seemed normal. Then she remembered that everything had changed. Everything….

"Anna!" she gasped, sitting up. "Is she awake?"

"Anna is still asleep, Highness," Erin said as the princess threw off her covers. "Uh, Highness? Your morning toilet…?"

But Elsa was already out of the door, pulling on her gloves as she hurried next door.

"Anna?" she whispered, easing the door open. The room was like a furnace, the fire still blazing high. Elsa found it constricting, the heat very uncomfortable, but she had to see how the other girl was doing.

Anna was still asleep, but seemed to be sleeping normally. There was no sign of any frost, and her arm had been bandaged neatly. With a sigh of relief, Elsa sat down in one of the chairs, and watched the other girl's chest slowly rise and fall, trying not to let herself give in to despair and worry.

After about half an hour Anna began to stir and mumble, and Elsa shot out of her chair.

"Anna…?" she whispered, standing over the sleeping child, her hands clasped tightly together.

The other girl moaned, then her eyes flickered open. She blinked, then focused on the anxious princess.

"Anna!" Elsa exclaimed, joy flooding her. "Oh, thank God!"

Anna looked at her curiously, her eyes wary.

"Where… where am I?" she got out, her voice barely above a whisper.

"You're in a spare bedroom, in the castle," Elsa said.

"Castle? Why am I in the castle? Who are you?"

Elsa gasped. "Anna! It's me!"

"Do I know you?"

Elsa gulped, suddenly nervous. "Please, tell me you remember me!"

Anna looked up at her suspiciously. "No. Should I?"

"Yes, yes, you should! We're friends!"

"Me, friends with the likes of you? Come off it," Anna said.

"You… you hit your head, so you don't remember," Elsa said, her heart pounding. "But we are friends. At least… I hope we still are…."

Anna looked around, seeing how luxuriously the room was decorated, in shades of pink and rose. "So am I a sort of lady or something?"

"Ah, no, not as such," Elsa admitted. "You're a… a maid."

"A maid? Figures. And are you a maid? You don't look like one."

Elsa went pink. "Er, no, I'm..."

There was a quick knock, and Kaisson entered. "Forgive the intrusion, Highness. Your royal parents are awaiting your presence at breakfast."

"Thank you, Kaisson," Elsa said, not taking her eyes off her friend as the butler bowed and retreated. Anna's face had shown surprise, then disgust. She stared at Elsa, her eyes narrowed.

"So. You're a princess. If you're a princess, what am I doing here?"

"I told you, you're my friend."

"A maid, friends with a princess? Pull the other one," Anna scoffed.

"Anna, please! Don't you remember? Don't you remember us being friends?"

The other girl shook her head slowly, looking at Elsa as if she were slightly mad.

"You must!" Elsa exclaimed. "Playing in the snow? Don't you remember dancing on the ice? Making the snowman together? Sir Olaf the Strong?"

"Olaf…" Anna murmured. She looked at Elsa again, long and hard. "There was… I remember there was snow…" she eventually breathed. "Snow, dancing in the air…."

Elsa laughed in relief. "Yes, yes! The magic!" She pulled off one glove, and made a quick gesture. With a sparkle of light, a dusting of snowflakes formed in the air, drifting down softly onto the counterpane.

Anna screamed and quickly hid under the covers. "Get away!" she screeched. "Witch! Witch! Help!"

"No!" Elsa cried, horrified. "No, Anna, please! I'm not a witch! Please! I'm sorry!"

"Leave me alone!" Anna shrieked. "Don't hurt me!"

"I won't hurt you! I could never hurt you!" Elsa quickly said, then stopped, her heart skipping as she remembered that she actually had. "Anna, please, listen. I didn't mean to scare you. I would never want to harm you. We are… we were… friends. Don't you remember the fun we had? Dressing up, reading stories?"

Slowly, Anna poked her head out from under the blankets, and stared at the other girl. "Wait… I do know you. You're… Elsa?"

"Yes!" Elsa cried. "Yes, it's me, Elsa!"

"I remember you now," Anna said. She took a deep breath, then let it out again. "You killed my father," she added in a soft, calm voice.

Elsa froze, not knowing how to respond. She swallowed, and clenched her fists, willing herself to remain in control. "I'm… I'm…. Oh, Anna, I'm so, so dreadfully sorry," she whispered, tears filling her eyes. "It was an accident, I swear… I'm so sorry…. Can you… could you ever forgive me? I was only trying to save you."

The maid looked at Elsa, her eyes cold, a blank mask. "You are the princess. I am your servant." She pushed back the bedclothes and stood, holding her injured arm close by her body.

"Please, Anna, at least take the day off," Elsa said. "I have spoken with Mrs Gerdason. You will not have to perform any duties for a day or two."

"Is Your Highness displeased with me?" Anna asked in a flat voice.

"Good heavens, no!" Elsa exclaimed. "Not at all! I just want to give you time… to heal, to mourn."

"My arm will not prevent me from doing my duties, Highness," Anna said stiffly. "And I do not mourn my father."

"Anna, your own father?" Elsa gasped.

"He was nothing to me," Anna said coldly. "I rejoice in his death."

"But… not even a funeral?"

"Throw his drink-sodden body to the fish for all I care," Anna commented, her voice flat.

Elsa was stunned. She had never seen Anna angry before, and had always imagined it would come out as passionate fury. Not this cold, emotionless state. It was so unlike her friend.

And it was all her fault.

"Anna, please, don't be like this," she pleaded. "I could stand it if you were furious, if you wanted to hit me—I deserve it, I really do. But this… this coldness…."

"I am not angry, Highness," Anna said calmly. "I am not angry, or sad, or happy. I am a servant. Emotions are not relevant to my work. If you will excuse me, Your Highness, I shall get dressed in my uniform immediately, and then attend to your morning toilet as duty requires."

Elsa stood there in shock as Anna brushed past her and left the room. "Anna!" she called, but the younger girl had already left.

She wrenched open the door, and saw Anna disappearing behind the green baize door to the servant's quarters. For a moment, Elsa was tempted to follow her, but realised that she was probably the last person in the world right now that Anna wanted to see. Instead she retreated to the security of her own room, shutting the door behind her.

* * *

Hilde was lying on her bed reading a tattered old copy of the _Lady's Magazine_, and wishing she could afford some of the elaborate fashions featured in the colour plates, when Anna threw open the door and started getting changed into her uniform.

"Hey, Anna," Hilde said, a slight smile on her face. "Glad to see you back."

The younger girl paused, turning to look at her. She frowned. "Do I know you?"

Hilde raised an eyebrow. "Are you nuts? Of course you bloody well know me. We've shared this room for half a year."

Anna tilted her head, her brow furrowed. Then she nodded. "So we have. You're… Hilde." She looked at the older girl again, her face expressionless. "Were we friends?"

"Well… that is, I suppose so," Hilde started to say, but was cut off.

"It doesn't matter," Anna said, slipping her dress on and wincing. "I don't really care about you. I have things to do."

"Anna! What do you mean? What the hell is going on? And what happened to your arm?"

The other girl raised an eyebrow. "Why do you care?"

"What? I'm just asking. You look like it hurts."

"My physical condition is none of your concern," Anna remarked.

"It is if you can't do your job properly." Hilde looked at Anna, pouting. "And if you don't tell me what's going on, I might have to beat it out of you!" she joked.

Anna snorted. "Yeah. Just like my father. And look what that got him. Dead as a doornail."

"Huh? Dead? What the hell're you on about, girl?"

"It's very simple. My father beat me. Then the princess killed my father," Anna stated, her voice completely calm and dispassionate.

"What?" Hilde gasped, dropping her magazine, her face white. "How? Why?"

Anna shrugged. "A six-foot spike of ice straight through his heart. Pinned him to the wall like an insect. It was really most amusing. His face was so funny as he died."

Hilde stared at her, trying to get her mind to work properly. "She… what… ice… dead?" she stammered. Anna's father—dead? Killed—by the princess? It was… it was inconceivable. Impossible. "Your father? The princess? She… she killed him?"

"I just told you that, you idiot. Are you deaf?"

"Oh, Anna! I'm sorry!" Hilde gasped, feeling her eyes prickle with tears. "I'm so sorry!"

"What? Why are you sorry? You didn't kill him."

"No, no, but… but that's not the…. Oh, Anna, you poor girl!"

"Have the decency to stop blubbing," Anna said coldly. "You think I care what you feel? What anyone feels?"

"But… but your own father!"

The other girl shrugged. "I don't care. He didn't deserve to live."

"Anna! You can't talk like that!"

"Of course I can. And why aren't you doing your duties?"

Hilde flushed. "I was taking a break," she admitted, feeling peeved. "From _your_ duties. I can't wait until the duke leaves and you're back to scullery maid."

"So you decided to sneak upstairs and read some stupid magazine?"

"It is not some stupid magazine!" Hilde shot back. "I'm going to save up and buy one of these dresses, I am!"

Anna glanced at the colour plates. "You'd look stupid in any of those. They're all hideous."

"I didn't ask for your opinion," Hilde snapped. "What the hell happened to you out there to make you like this, anyway?"

"I told you. The princess killed my father."

"And that's it? Why do I think you aren't telling me everything?" Hilde asked, looking suspiciously at her roommate.

"Because talking to you is giving me a headache," Anna retorted, fixing her braids. Then she left the room, letting the door slam shut behind her.

Hilde stared in surprise at the closed door, then shrugged and picked up her magazine again. She still had a few precious minutes before her lateness would become noticed, and she intended to use them.

* * *

"I really don't see what you're upset about, Elsa," the queen said at lunch. "Anna's safe, she's well."

"She is not well!" Elsa retorted. "And don't you lecture me! This is all your fault, you know!"

"Elsa!" the king snapped. "Do not speak to your mother like that!"

"Let her be, Agdar," the queen said, weariness in her voice. "She's right—I did do this to her. Elsa, _min elskede_, I'm just trying to help. I want to help you feel better."

"I've killed my best friend's father thanks to the curse your barrenness inflicted upon me," Elsa said spitefully. "But by all means, try and make me feel better about being a murderer."

"Elsa, for Heaven's sake!" the king said, frowning as the queen bit her lip and looked away. "That was self-defence in protection of a life! That's exactly what our soldiers, our guards, are trained to do—if you'd been a soldier in my royal guard, and Anna had been you, I'd be giving you a medal right now!"

The princess gave a most un-ladylike snort, rolling her eyes.

"Elsa, my girl," the king said, facing her directly. "Listen to me. You… are… not, I repeat not, to blame. You saved this maid—you saved your friend. And from what I hear, this Black Adolf will not be missed."

"Not even by his daughter?" Elsa retorted. "Anna's been cold and distant ever since we got back—she hates me now."

"Do you wish her to be reassigned?" the queen asked softly. "We could give her her old job back. Find you a new lady's maid while the duke is here."

Elsa glared at her mother. "You mean demote her, kick her back down to scullery maid, because of something I did?" She sighed. "No. It won't be for much longer, anyway. The duke will leave in a few more days. Then everything will go back the way it was. Anna will be scullery maid again, and I… I will be friendless again. Alone… for ever…."

"Oh, Elsa, please don't speak like that," the queen said, compassion and worry on her gentle features. "You'll find friends, one day. And you'll learn to control this curse as well. I know you will."

"Will I? Do you know what happened to the last Snow Queen?" Elsa asked bitterly.

"Uh, no," the queen admitted.

"She was driven from her home, forced to flee into the mountains, and live out her days as a hermit," Elsa said softly. "I read it in one of the fairy tales in the library."

"But Elsa, darling, those are just stories! They're not true!"

The princess shook her head. "They're the stories that the official histories won't print. The stories that deal with things like magic and curses and witchcraft, things that the Church finds theologically unacceptable, things that our modern scientific world is supposed to be beyond. But the old stories didn't stop being true because no one believed in them any more." Elsa stared at her mother, her gaze fixed. "You of all people should know that," she added bitterly. "I'm living proof that they're true, after all."

"I think that's quite enough of that," the king said firmly. "What's done is done, Elsa. The past is in the past."

Elsa looked at her father, feeling tears prickle her eyes, and sighed. "You were right, you know."

"That's a first," he said, smiling gently. "What about?"

"About trying to be friends with Anna, with a maid. I thought it didn't apply to us. I really did. I thought we got along so well. When we were together, just talking, it was like talking to… to someone I'd known all my life. But now…. Now I don't know who she is, not any more. She's closed herself off, shut herself away." She took a deep breath, and looked down at her hands. "And I know why…."

* * *

Elsa was standing in the Grand Gallery of the castle a few days later, looking at the various paintings of her ancestors that hung on the walls. Queens and princesses dating back to the twelfth century, when Arendelle had been Christianized, and in return Pope Adrian IV, the only English pope, had granted them their perpetual independence after his visit to Arendelle in 1154. Were any of these women afflicted with the same curse she had been? There were gaps in the series of portraits, of course—sometimes as long as a century or more. Was that because there had been some horrible scandal, rumours of witchcraft?

"You rang, Highness?"

Elsa turned to see Anna enter. Her heart jumped, as it did each time she saw her, hoping against hope that this time it would be the old Anna. The warm, friendly, caring Anna. The Anna who was passionate, loving. But each time she was disappointed.

"How… how are… how is work going, Anna?" Elsa asked, trying to stick to neutral topics.

"Work is work," Anna said. "Highness."

"And how is your arm?"

"It does not hamper the performance of my duties," Anna replied. She looked around, her face puzzled. "I… I've been here before," she said quietly. "I remember… something. I was doing something here. And you were there."

Elsa's heart soared. "Yes! Yes, Anna! We were here before, the two of us! We were looking at that painting—the girl in the swing! Remember how much you liked it?"

Anna turned to look at the large oil painting Elsa gestured towards. She took a step towards it, her brows furrowed, a hand reaching out in confusion. Then she stopped, and shook her head.

"You must be mistaken, Highness," she said, turning away from the painting. "I would never like anything that ugly."

"Ugly!" Elsa gasped.

"It's really quite hideous," Anna said. "I don't understand how your royal parents can bear to even look at it. Or indeed, most of these paintings."

The princess felt her heart grow heavy again. For a moment, just a brief moment, it was almost as if the old Anna was back, but then she was gone, ripped away like the petals of a flower in a winter storm.

"Anna, could you please bring me Alnæs's _Historien om Arendelle_?" she asked.

"That? It's so heavy," Anna muttered. "Why do you want it?"

Trying to restrain her annoyance at the impertinence. Elsa gestured towards the portraits. "I want to try and determine just when the gaps in the record are, and if there are also corresponding gaps in the written histories."

"Why?"

"Because I have to learn who—" Elsa stopped herself. Was there any point in reminding Anna once again how much of a freak she was? "Just get it," she said. "Please."

After Anna left, the princess remained where she was, staring at the mockingly joyful features of the girl on the swing as tears silently dribbled down her cheeks, while a thin film of ice started spreading out slowly from under her feet.

* * *

"Hey, you left your book lying open, face down, on the floor," Hilde said that night, holding out Anna's well-read copy of _Norwegian Folktales_. "That's not good for the spine."

The other maid glanced at it, contempt on her face. "So? Throw it out. I don't want it."

"Huh? Don't be stupid," Hilde said. "You love this book!"

"It's full of childish nonsense," Anna said scornfully. "All fairy tales are nonsense. Only an idiot would waste her time with them." She grabbed it and suddenly threw it out the open window.

Hilde gasped. "Anna! What the hell? Seriously, listen to me, girl! What the hell happened to you out there, out when you were gone? Why won't you tell me?"

"Why should I? What do you care?"

"I care, you little whelp, because I have to live in the same room as you, and don't want you in a foul mood all the time. And I do care about you a bit. Just a bit, mind," Hilde spat.

"I cannot imagine why," Anna said. "Soppy emotions like that are a waste of time. Grow up! Stop acting like a precious baby."

Hilde's eyebrows shot up. "I don't believe you! You're insane! You're just like Hans!" Her eyes widened. "Oh…. Anna, did the princess's ice magic strike you?"

Anna shrugged. "Of course it did. The whole room was full of it."

"Where… where did the ice hit you?" Hilde asked carefully.

"More questions? Do you ever stop talking? I can't stand people who just babble on and on. And I don't know where she hit me." She rubbed her chest, and made a slight face. "What does it matter, anyway?"

"Nothing," Hilde muttered, turning away from the redhead.

"Then have the goodness not to talk to me again. I'm late for my bath, and you're giving me a splitting headache."

The young girl gathered up her dressing gown and headed out the door to the girls' bathroom, leaving Hilde standing in the room, a puzzled frown slowly forming on her face as she processed what she had been told, and what she had seen happen once before, many years ago.

* * *

"Well, Your Majesty," the Duke of Weselton said, seating himself in the best chair. "I shall be leaving tomorrow. I have been approaching these daily negotiations with good faith, and even extended my stay here another week to show Britain's willingness to accommodate our good friends here in the small kingdom of Arendelle. But despite this, you appear quite unwilling to be reasonable."

"Reasonable!" the king exclaimed, then quickly caught himself. "I am afraid, Your Grace, that the terms you have proposed are… hard to accept."

The library windows had been thrown open to admit the fresh, cooling breezes of summer, but the room was still rather humid. Elsa was gently fanning herself with a pale blue silk fan with one hand while making notes with the other. She glanced up at the small group of officials seated around the table, and sighed. It did not look as if Anna's ability to draw out the duke's warmer side had had any effect on his negotiating tactics. Elsa briefly wondered what would happen if she asked Anna to carry out the negotiations, then smiled to herself as she imagined her father's reaction. Then her face fell as she remembered how coldly angry Anna was now. No, she could not look to her friend for help. It was up to her and her father, as well as the few other English-speaking nobles and officials seated around the large table.

The duke delicately wiped his pince-nez, then perched them back on the bridge of his large nose. "Surely not all that hard? We are offering a far more generous agreement than last time. In fact we are prepared to take all the cod you can provide. No import quotas at all."

"The problem," the king said in a carefully even tone, "is that your current proposal includes tariffs of up to several hundred percent on anything more than a single shipment!"

The duke shrugged. "I am sorry. Our own fishermen could not allow their own government to undercut them. And with the recent development of the Canadian fishing grounds, we expect to see even greater imports from our colony there…."

Sitting near the window, Elsa was barely paying attention. Her mind was wandering back to Anna, wishing her friend did not hate her so. No, not even that, she told herself. Anna had every right to hate her, after what she did. Elsa could understand that, bear that. It was just that she was so… so cold, so remote. Anna didn't even seem angry—it was like she was a completely different person. As if the shock of losing her father had ripped out her soul. She had been so happy, so full of life, even as they had headed through the filthy warren of the wynds to her home that fateful day.

And that was the last time she had ever seen Anna so much as smile, let alone laugh. Anna used to laugh so often, Elsa thought with a sigh, biting her lip and blinking back tears. Her laughter could lift Elsa's spirits even on her most introspective, morbid days. But no more. Never more….

Suddenly she became aware that the two men had stopped talking. She raised her head and gasped in horror. Snowflakes were drifting around the room, floating in the breeze from the windows.

"What is this?" the duke hissed, looking from the king to Elsa.

Agdar glanced at his daughter, whose face was stricken. "It's… it's common here in Arendelle," he said quickly. "We are very near the high mountains, and sometimes there are strong winds up there, blowing down snow right to the city."

"Yes, yes, that is correct," Elsa said in English. Then she switched to Norwegian, doing her best to keep her voice calm so the duke wouldn't get suspicious. "Father, I'm so sorry. I've been… having problems controlling my curse lately. I was thinking of… of Anna, and the magic just slipped out."

"I knew it! Witch!" came a voice in heavily-accented Norwegian.

Both Elsa and her father snapped their heads around and stared at the duke, who was standing up, a finger pointed accusingly at Elsa. Then he saw them staring at him, and his face went pale.

"Ah. Did I just say that out loud?" he asked in English, his cheeks pink.

"You… you speak our language," the king gasped. "My god, man! You always did. You heard everything we said together, every comment we shared about your ideas, every tactic we discussed!"

The duke drew himself up to his full height, which was barely taller than Elsa, and glared at them. "So what if I do?" he spat in Norwegian. Then he stabbed his finger at Elsa. "What is she? A witch? A demon? I knew there was something wrong with her! I knew it!" he screeched. "The morning I came, I kissed her cold hand, and found a snowflake in my palm afterwards!"

Elsa gasped, trembling, but the king moved to stand behind her chair, his hands on her shoulders.

"You will not tell anyone of this, I think," he said in a calm voice.

"You think?" Weselton cried. "You think wrong! She is a witch! The kingdom of Arendelle harbours witchcraft! The royal family are worshippers of the devil! The princess is a monster!"

The king made a gesture, and two burly guards came to stand beside the duke, who swallowed hard and sat down again quickly.

"You would not dare harm an official envoy of His Majesty King William!" the short man snapped, looking warily at the guards.

"And you will not call my child a monster!" the king snapped back, comforting his weeping girl.

The duke glared at the king. "You presume much, sir! Do you expect me to forget all this?"

"I do," the king said. "Or else I shall inform King Charles of Sweden and Norway, with whom I know you are also negotiating, of the fact that you are a spy."

"Sir! How dare you!" the duke shouted again. "I am no spy!"

"And that the United Kingdom's trade negotiations are carried out in bad faith, with officials who lie about their linguistic ability in order to undercut negotiations and secure more favourable conditions. Every country in Europe will turn against you, refuse to do business with you! You will be isolated, alone!"

The duke's face turned red. "We still have our empire!" he spat. "We shall build such an empire that dwarfs those of the rest of Europe put together!"

"But before that, Your Grace," the king said, putting an undue emphasis on the duke's title, "you, personally, shall be humiliated and your reputation ruined. That is, if you speak of what you saw here. If, on the other hand, you show a desire to compromise, to work out a genuine deal, then… then you can return home with a job well done, and earn the gratitude of two monarchs. Three, once my darling Elsa becomes queen."

A muscle in the duke's cheek twitched, making his moustache jiggle. Then he snorted. "Fine. This pathetic little speck on the map could never threaten our fishing industry. You can have that twenty percent tariff you wanted. Export as much bloody cod as you like! And I hope you drown in it!"

The king smiled. "If I do, I shall do so secure in the knowledge that at least my daughter's kingdom will prosper."

Elsa went bright pink, and glanced nervously at the duke, who was staring at her, his face unreadable. She found herself wanting to apologize to him, to say sorry for tricking him. Not that she had intended to. All those sessions, all those meals together, all that worry, and for naught. He had found out after all.

"Your Grace, please… I'm… I'm not a witch," she whispered.

The duke ignored her, and rose. "By your leave, Your Majesty, Your Highness, I shall retire to my quarters. I am afraid that I feel a headache coming on, so, with regret, must decline attendance at dinner tonight."

"But… we were planning on a banquet in your honour," the king said, surprised.

The duke smiled thinly. "I do regret the inconvenience. However, I am not a strong man. I am compelled to be somewhat cautious with my health in this intemperate northern clime, where it can snow at any time of the year. And I am sure that the princess will appreciate being able to dine with her gloves off, for once."

With a low bow to the king, and a lesser bow to Elsa, he left the room.

"Father… I'm so sorry," Elsa said, not meeting his eyes.

"Don't be," the king said, an amused smile on his face. "Elsa, my darling, it seems your... gift… has saved the day. Has saved Arendelle."

She looked up at him, seeing his gentle, forgiving face, and found herself smiling back at him.

* * *

Her heart lighter than it had been since she had found Anna again, Elsa headed back to her bedroom. She sat by her window, looking out over the fjord towards the high mountains. She had never been to them, and doubted she ever would—few ever ventured up their dangerous slopes. Mountains were strange places, neither of this world or the next. She recalled how trolls were said to live in the mountains, or under them rather, in great caverns. The ancient Norse had also believed that the Jotun, the giants of old, lived in a land of mountains.

Arendelle was also a land of mountains, where flat land was precious; thus it was completely dependent on its cod industry to survive. After these negotiations, Elsa realized that it could not depend on Britain to take the bulk of its catch, not in the future. She resolved that once she was queen, she would modernize the shipping fleet, and seek out new partners in trade. The Southern Isles, for example, could be a profitable market. Provided, of course, that they did not require she marry one of the king's many sons to ensure access: a tactic they had used several times already. But there were still all sorts of possibilities, and for the first time in what seemed like forever, Elsa allowed herself to imagine a brighter, happier future, both for her and her kingdom.

She went to her bookcase, and took down an atlas of Europe, which she set on her desk, then sat down. Some tea would be nice, she thought absent-mindedly, ringing the bell.

A few minutes later, the door to her room opened, and Anna entered. "You rang, Highness?"

"Oh, Anna!" Elsa exclaimed, happy to see her friend. "Wonderful news! The duke has agreed to our terms! Arendelle is saved! Isn't that amazing?"

Anna shrugged. "It doesn't really matter to me either way," she said. "What is your command, Highness?"

"Tea, please," Elsa said quietly, feeling embarrassed about having been so enthusiastic.

"At once, Highness," Anna said, and headed out.

She was back in a few minutes, bearing a tray with a silver teapot and elegant bone china cup on it, which she set down on a side table near the desk.

Elsa looked at it, her heart heavy, remembering the first lesson in being a lady's maid she had given Anna, all those months ago. Was this really it? Would they never have that closeness again? Was there nothing she could do?

"Anna, I… I wanted to thank you," Elsa said nervously.

"For what? Highness?" Anna asked, carefully pouring a cup.

"For all your help, for being there for me this past fortnight. For helping out with the duke. And… for being there for me when I needed you."

She looked at the shorter girl, trying to see if there was any change, any sign that Anna was feeling differently. Any sign that Anna's heart was thawing towards her. But the redhead's face remained as impassive as ever, barely concealing an impression of deep scorn.

"Tomorrow… tomorrow you will have to return to your normal duties," Elsa carried on, feeling rather as if she were the young maid and Anna the imperious princess. "I hope you don't mind too much. I wanted to keep you on, but Mother wouldn't let me. But… in a few years… perhaps you could be my lady's maid for real. Would… would you like that?"

"I do as I am commanded, Highness," Anna said as she placed the cup on the desk, beside Elsa's book. "My feelings are immaterial."

Elsa shook her head. "Anna, please—I don't know what's happened between us. This isn't you. Please don't shut me out—please don't keep your distance. I know you're in there, somewhere. You've been so remote, so cold—it's not like you."

Anna stared at her, her face impassive. "Well, this is who I am. Welcome to the real me."

"No, Anna, it's not!" Elsa exclaimed, springing to her feet. She wished she could just grab the other girl and shake her out of her mood. "I… I know why you're angry with me. But please—at least let me talk to you, try to make things better."

"I have told you, I am not angry," Anna said calmly. "I do not hate you. I simply do not like you."

Elsa gasped. "You… you don't like me?"

Anna stared at the princess, her blue-green eyes as hard and cold as the heart of a glacier. "Is it required that I like you, Highness?"

Elsa felt her heart twist. "Does that mean… do you mean… we won't ever be friends again?" she whispered, feeling her eyes prickle.

"Again? We never were friends. Now, Your Highness, if you'll excuse me, I have duties to perform."

The young redhead swept out of the room, leaving the princess standing there alone, frozen in shock. The door swung to gently, but in Elsa's heart it sounded like a clap of thunder, echoing and re-echoing with its horrible finality. She stumbled back, away from the door, her lip trembling. She could feel her curse building, growing inside her, trying to break free as her emotions broke down the barriers around her heart. Elsa clenched her fists, her eyes tightly closed. _Conceal, don't feel_, she told herself. _You have to be stronger than that. You must control your emotions_. She would not give in. She would not let her curse win. Not again. Never again. She took a deep breath, and tried to calm herself, to think rationally.

So. She had lost a friend. That happens, she told herself. People change. That was what her mother had told her. There would be other friends, her mother had said. _But what others could there ever be_, Elsa asked herself. This would just happen again and again, each time she got close to someone. The curse of the God of the Winter Winds would doom her to a lifetime of loneliness. Oh, but it was so hard to be alone, now that she experienced friendship. So very hard….

What could she possibly do now? Elsa let out her breath slowly, trying to remember how she used to amuse herself on her own. She had never minded spending hours alone before, after all. That was who she was—that was the real Elsa. The girl who was happiest creating her own worlds, where she was in control. Where her curse did not matter.

She sat down at her desk and opened a drawer, looking for a pencil, hoping to lose herself in the precise, mathematical world of architectural rendering, seek control over her emotions through control over line and form.

While rummaging for the pencil, she found some strange curled objects. Puzzled, she took one out and looked at. It was a dried petal, and Elsa wondered how it had got in there. Then she remembered: this was the crocus that Anna had given her all those months ago—the crocus she had accidentally frozen. Reluctant to throw away the precious present from her friend, she had collected the petals and placed them carefully in her desk.

The princess stared at the fragile, pale petal, small and withered in her hand, and let her mind drift back to happier times. Before she had lost her only friend. Because of what she was—the monster, the witch she had been created as. Well, it was all over now: she would be alone for ever. There was no point in hanging onto the past. She took out the dried petals one by one, slowly crumpling them up, and threw them away before she slumped over the desk, feeling her tears flow.

The petals drifted down into her wastepaper basket where they lay abandoned, the dry remnants of a garden flower, slowly vanishing under the snow that was filling the room.

.

* * *

**KNOWTES:**

Another chapter that ended up being rather harder to write than I expected. Again, I know where the story is going-it's like the pillars of a bridge extending to the farther shore. And I have to lay the bridge across them, which isn't always that easy. Especially with chapters, like this, where the primary focus is on emotional buildups, on internal turmoil rather than external events. This means that there may be a beginning and an end, but what goes in the middle is hidden in a fog.

Which is why I'm very happy to get reviews that call this story heartfelt, or full of heart. I do try to make them that way, giving them a solid, and earned, emotional focus, but it takes a fair bit of work, and I don't want to do a half-hearted (ha) job—which is why updates are fortnightly at best. Partly as I don't have that much free time, but also as chapters like this are like chipping away at a block of unyielding marble.

Also, please don't think I've gone off the rails with making Anna OOC. There's a reason why this is happening, and no doubt many of you have guessed by now what it is.

The title is taken from a 1798 poem by William Wordsworth (whose words were obviously worth quite a lot) called _The Old Cumberland Beggar_: Wordsworth is describing a old beggar-man (and how it is important to "deem not this man useless, statesmen! Ye who are so restless in your wisdom"), thus: "Which man is born to sink, howe'er depressed, so low as to be scorned without a sin; without offence to God cast out of view; like the dry remnant of a garden-flower whose seeds are shed…" I think it fits in nicely with the flower imagery I've used from time to time, most notably in the actual title.

I've also shoved in a reference to the famous _Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam_, dating back to the 11th century, but the translations into European languages did not begin until the late 19th century, so Elsa wouldn't know it directly. She would, however, be familiar with the Biblical tale of Belshazzar's Feast, which describes a similar moving finger and unmovable fate ("Your days are numbered, you have been weighed, and your kingdom will be divided"). High on Wordmangler's list of _How 2 Rite Stuff Betta_ is "Steal…uh… borrow from the masters…."

There have long been reports of the aurora making sound. These are nigh-impossible to record, however, leading to the suggestion that it's all in the head. Another suggestion is that it is, indeed, all in the head, but something called electrophonic transduction. The Inuit tell stories that these noises are the souls of the dead trying to communicate. While that probably isn't the real explanation, the actual explanation, like the aurora themselves, is very much up in the air.

Remember, "toilet" here emphatically does _not_ refer to using the loo.

While it's not a major issue, either in the story or in "real" life for Elsa, I like to have her a little less comfortable with heat than the average person, just to reflect her hibernal nature.

The _Lady's Magazine_, or _Entertaining Companion for the Fair Sex, Appropriated Solely to Their Use and Amusement_, was a British fashion magazine produced every month from 1770 until 1837. It wasn't even the first such, as The Ladies' Mercury had been published way back in 1693. Wikipedia does not discuss whether _LM_ was full of scandals and gossip and paparazzi sketches of celeb nip-slips, however….

Curiously, I have no idea why doornails in particular should be dead, but it seems that they have been described as such since around 1350. As Dickens logically suggests (in A Christmas Carol), if you're going to use any nail, why not a coffin-nail? Of course there are, as we know, degrees of deadness, with Westley from _The Princess Bride_ only being "mostly dead." So what's that, then? Dead as a hangnail? At any rate, the best (well, the only) explanation I have found suggests that doornails were made "dead" (as in not able to be used again) as they were flattened from the other side when hammered through a door.

Pope Adrian IV was indeed the only English pope, and from 1152 to 1154 he was in Scandinavia as papal legate (right before becoming Pope), establishing an independent arch-episcopal see for Norway at Trondheim. He emphatically did not grant Arendelle its perpetual independence later as a reward for it becoming Christian, but it seems as good an excuse as any for why the kingdom remained independent. I could have made it due to the power of a previous Snow Queen, but whenever possible I like to reference real history.

"Alnæs's _Historien om Arendelle_" is a reference to the very real Karsten Alnæs's _The History of Norway_ (_Historien om Norge_) which no, I have not read.

I wasn't sure about adding the scene with the duke, but wanted to finish off that sub-sub-plot: he was never, as hinted at earlier, anything more than a red herring to give Elsa and Anna time together. So I clarified just what had made him pause when greeting Elsa on arrival, and found a way for him to be forced to agree to cod negotiations without softening him too much. Basically to get in the "monster!" parallel with the film. In a way I would have liked to make him nice, but without Anna there to draw out his nicer side, that won't work.

At this time, Norway and Sweden were ruled by King Charles in a personal union—he was king of both countries, but they were still independent countries. In the same way that James VI of Scotland was also James I of England, rather than being King James of the United Kingdom, as the United Kingdom didn't come until the 1707 Act of Union. In fact the Swedish king, Charles XIV John, wasn't even Swedish, let alone Norwegian—he was a Frenchman, and elected to the position of king.

"This is who I am. Welcome to the real me" is taken from the cut song, _Life's Too Short_. I presume you all know it. The demo version on the CD has "I'm sure glad you like it sis, 'cause this is the real me" but the official (such as they are) lyrics are as I wrote, at least according to the Disney Wiki. These "singouts" are just a bit of fan service, but I like trying to find ways to make them fit into the story sort of naturally, and to use them as thematic callbacks.

For what it's worth, pencils as we know them today were in their present form by the early 19th century, though the rubber/eraser at the end had to wait until 1858. And outside the US they're not all yellow, either. This isn't a major fact that needs Knowting, but sometimes, when you think about all the changes that have happened in history, it's nice to focus on the things that haven't changed much—it provides a sort of sense of connection, I feel. Just little, prosaic, day-to-day things. Like pencils.

**RESPONSE TO A NAME:**

(Hmmm. That sounds really deep and metaphysical… or maybe the title of a poem…)

Thanks very much for your detailed comments (and for keeping on reading—and yes, I know what you meant about being a story that happens to have Frozen in it: I try to craft the best story I can, without having to rely too much on reader goodwill from the original source). I can't reply in person, as you're a "Guest poster," so I'm adding a bit here to explain more about Elsa's magic.

The idea of a mana pool like RPGs is fine as far as it goes, but I wanted something a little deeper. I wanted to create this connection to the ancient beliefs of Northern Scandinavia, partially to give it more of a sense of time and place, and partially for reasons that we shall see in future chapters. In addition, I've never been comfortable with Elsa's ability to create life, which is a completely different form of magic from manipulating snow and ice. It basically makes her a god, and I don't like over-powered characters. So I simply removed the power source for that one step, giving it to an actual god. In all practical terms, there's no difference between a mana pool and this manifestation I have created – after all, where does the mana come from? It's simply shifting the question one level back. Of course we also have the question of "where does this god and his power come from," but the idea of powerful gods is one of the oldest stories we have, so doesn't really need much more of an explanation.

I was concerned it would be seen as weakening her, definitely. I certainly don't want to do that. I don't see the God of the Winter Winds as consciously allowing Elsa to have powers: it is more along the lines of Elsa having the ability to draw on this god's power, in the same way as she would a mana pool. As we saw in the film, Elsa can wield truly massive amounts of magic. As it's not connected to her mana pool, but to a god, scale is not an issue. Her magic is truly fractal – it can be as big or as little as it needs to be, but still be the same. And of course when she dies the link to the god's magic dies as well.

On a related note, Olaf's life expectancy is uncertain – is he immortal if he remains cold enough not to melt? And there's a shot of him eating in the _Frozen Fever_ publicity photos, which is really confusing regarding exactly what he is—another reason I prefer to carefully ignore him…. Thematically, I understand what Olaf is there for. But when you try and work out just what he _is_, it gets really hard to explain in any sort of rational sense….

Anyway, thanks for bringing the issue up, and making me consider the matter more explicitly. And I hope you enjoy the rest of the story.

And thanks to the other anonymous or unregistered reviewers—even if I can't reply directly, I very much value your comments (and song lyrics). At this stage there are two chapters and an epilogue to go, so not long now. With luck, it will be done by the solstice.

[**Posted:** 14th February 2015]

[**Edited**: 25 April 2015. Some minor stylistic changes (just swapping words and so on). And nobody corrected me on saying "Wesley" for "Westley" re The Princess Bride? Most disappointed….


	21. In the Shadow of the Mountain King

**21\. In the Shadow of the Mountain King**

[**Last time on ****_Living Flower_**: Anna has become cold and distant towards Elsa, driving a rift into their friendship. Nothing Elsa can do can penetrate the layer of ice around Anna's heart, driving her to despair and depression.]

* * *

Elsa found herself wandering through the royal family's private garden, a book in her hand. She was intending to find one of her favourite benches and sit and read in quiet, somewhere there was no chance of encountering anyone—especially Anna. The maid had, if anything, become even more cold and bitter, and Elsa found it less painful to just not talk to her any more. _Less_ painful, she thought to herself—not _not_ painful. Every moment she was with Anna, she had wanted to hug her, hold her, let her know just how sorry she was for killing her father. And every morning she would wake up, hoping against hope that Anna had forgiven her. Or was even talking to her. But it was not to be. Tomorrow Anna would return to her old duties, and they would seldom meet again. But at least she would not have to face Anna; not have to be confronted with her failure, her true nature as a monster.

But now the princess felt more alone than she ever in her life before. These days she could barely bear to be around anyone, even her parents, and spent most of her time in her room. However, her curse was even more erratic now, so it was better to remain outdoors, where uncontrolled snow and ice was less damaging to the ancient wooden castle. After all, she had seen, first-hand, just how easily her power could bring down a building. She was dangerous, pure and simple.

Tears brimming, she made her way along a path near the castle, not really paying attention. Then her foot kicked something. Curious, she looked down, and saw a rather dirty brown book. It was lying face-down, and seemed to have been there for a few days. She stooped down to pick it up, and gasped. It was the copy of _Norwegian Folktales_ she had given Anna. The inscription she had so neatly written on the flyleaf was smudged and smeared by the rain, but she could still make out Anna's name. It had been her first gift to her friend. And now Anna had tossed it from her window, high under the castle roofs, where it had fallen down to rest here, to decay forgotten amidst the grass and dirt.

This was it—the final sign, beyond all doubt, that her friend no longer cared for her, or wanted anything to do with her. She was alone. She would always be alone. Loneliness was no stranger to her, but why did it have to be so much harder now? For one brief, glorious moment, sweet summer had shed its brief light on the bleak winter of her life. But now… now her world was darker and colder than ever.

Weeping, Elsa clutched the book to her chest and ran back inside the castle, fleeing to her room. This was no time to spend reading fantasy tales, losing herself in other worlds. She could not run from who she was. Somehow she had to find a cure for her curse, a way to get rid of it once and for all. Or she would never have any friends, ever again. There must be a cure, she told herself. There must. And she would not rest until she found it.

* * *

"Right," Kaisson said, standing up at the end of breakfast the following day. "His Grace the Duke of Weselton has sailed, so things will go back to normal starting from today. His Majesty has authorized me to inform you all that negotiations concluded successfully, and Arendelle and the United Kingdom have signed a trading agreement that is definitely in our favour. Good work all of you."

"And might I add my own thanks," Gerdason added. "I know it's been extra work, but those of you who had extra duties, or worked different jobs than normal, have all done very well. Aslaug, Her Majesty wanted me to convey her personal gratitude for the way you looked after the duke; he appears to have been very satisfied with your performance indeed."

"Thank you very much, ma'am," Aslaug said.

"And Anna, I'm sorry you have to return to being scullery maid," the housekeeper continued. "I know it's a big step down, but the princess has told me personally that she very much enjoyed having you as her maid, and hopes to make the position permanent as soon as possible. I trust that you yourself enjoyed the experience?"

Anna shrugged. "Can't say I did. Not sad it's over."

"Anna! Really!" Gerdason exclaimed. "I know you have suffered a great personal loss recently, but do please try to retain some manners. It is a great honour to serve the princess."

"Yes, ma'am," Anna replied sullenly. "Of course it is. Huge honour. Huge."

"Good. Is there anything else, Mr Kaisson?"

"That should just about cover it," the butler said. "Dismissed."

Some of the servants started to head out to their assigned duties, while others, including Anna and Hilde, remained in the Servants Hall to clear up.

"Hey, Anna," Hans called, a smirk on his face as he loitered by the door, lighting a cigarette.

"Yes?"

"What's this personal loss, eh? Lose a friend?"

Anna glared at him. "None of your business. Why do you care?"

He shrugged. "I don't really. Just bored. Everything's so dreadfully boring here. So what was it? A tragic death?"

"Shut it, Hans!" Hilde snapped.

Anna rolled her eyes. "Hans can say what he wants. I will just ignore him." She stared at the handsome young man, contempt on her features. "You really are pathetic. A waste of oxygen." Then she stalked out of the room, carrying an armful of dirty plates.

Hans's eyes opened wide, then he laughed. "She's all right, she is. Not sure about you these days, Hilde."

"Damn it, Hans," the maid snapped. "Do you have to be such a bastard all the time!"

"Tut tut! Such language! What would old Gerdy say if she heard you?"

"She'd say the same thing, I bet! Anna's just lost her father, and you shouldn't make fun of it!"

Hans smirked. "Ol' pappy snuffed it, eh? How?"

"He was crushed when his home collapsed," Hilde said, carefully avoiding any mention of the princess.

Hans laughed. "Well, at least Anna doesn't seem crushed by it."

"How can you laugh? It's her family! Her only family! Don't you even care about that?"

He shrugged. "So?"

Hilde looked at him, biting her lip.

"Do… do you remember your father? Your parents?" she asked.

Hans looked taken aback. "Why the devil do you want to know that?"

"I... I just do. So tell me!"

"My, you are bossy," he said with a grin. "Must be why I like you."

Hilde paused, and looked up at him, her face sad. "I know you don't mean that," she said. "But seriously—what do you remember?"

Hans shrugged. "Of my parents? Not much. I don't remember much of what happened before I came here. Just that it was bloody terrible."

"Do you miss your family?" Hilde asked softly. "Any of them?"

"Do I miss them? What kind of crazy question is that, you stupid wench?"

Hilde bit her lip, then shrugged. "Because I do, sometimes," she admitted quietly. "I mean, wouldn't you like to see them again? To know there was someone who loved you?"

"Honestly, I really don't care," Hans said. "The only person I care about already does love me."

Hilde's eyes opened wide. "Who?" she gasped.

Hans laughed. "Why, me, of course!" He looked at her sharply. "Why on earth are you getting all soppy on me? I thought you were different, more like me. Stronger. Not sentimental."

"I am like you," Hilde shot back. "Forget I asked anything. I was just thinking about Anna's father, that's all."

"Yeah, killed by a falling house. That'll do it," Hans said, and laughed. "I think it's hilarious. She runs away to see him, and the next thing you know, he's flatter than a pancake. Is that why she's been so moody? Silly girl. She should just forget about family. I have."

"Yes. I know," Hilde said, and sighed. "I have to go now."

"You're a weird kid," Hans said, shrugging as Hilde left the Servants' Hall and wandered down the basement corridor, thinking hard.

* * *

There was a small, subdued knock on the door. Elsa barely noticed it, as she was engrossed in trying to translate Olaus Magnus's thick Latin _Historia om de Nordiska Folken_, searching for references to the _Nix Regina_, the mythical _Snødronningen_. The knock was repeated, and Elsa frowned in annoyance. She didn't want to see anyone. For their own safety, it was best she didn't.

"Yes?" she called, rather more curtly than she had intended.

"Begging your pardon, Your Royal Highness," came a soft voice from the other side of the door. For a brief instant, Elsa thought it was Anna, and her heart skipped. Then she realized it was an older girl's voice. Who on earth wanted to talk to her? Who would dare be around her now?

"Enter," she said, standing up and making sure her gloves were on.

The door eased open, and a maid about fifteen years old poked her head around. Elsa raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"Terribly sorry to intrude, Your Highness," the girl said, curtseying. "My name's… my name is Hilde. I'm…."

"Oh, of course! Anna's roommate!" Elsa gasped, recognizing the maid at last. "How… how is she?"

"Well, you see, Highness," Hilde said. "It's… it's about Anna that I've come."

Elsa swallowed. "Yes?" she asked for the third time.

Hilde looked nervous, twisting her fingers together and keeping her gaze fixed firmly on the rug.

"She's… there's… there's something wrong with her, I think…" she eventually stammered.

Elsa blinked in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"She's been acting… strange. Weird. Not like her."

The princess sighed. "I know. And I know why. She's upset at me."

Hilde bit her lip, and shook her head timidly. "Highness, it's… not that. There's something… else."

"Something else?" Elsa took a deep breath. "Sit down there, please, Hilde. Do try to relax," she said, gesturing to a chair. She herself sat back down by her desk, and waited as the maid dipped in a quick curtsey then perched on the very edge of the wooden chair. "Please, tell me what you know."

"I… I've seen this before," Hilde said quietly. "Highness, please, forgive me! I'm worried about her! She's my… well… she's my…."

"She's your friend," Elsa said, smiling for the first time in days. "Please, I give you my word, you have nothing to fear from me. Speak."

"She-–Anna—told me that you… that you… when her father…." The maid looked up at her princess, fear in her eyes. But Elsa's expression did not change. She sat there for a few moments, a flood of different emotions tangling in her breast.

"She's right," the blonde girl admitted with a sigh. "I did. I didn't mean to, but… I did. This does not leave the castle, do you understand?"

Hilde quickly shook her head, then stopped, and nodded. "Yes, of course, I mean no, I would never tell! But… the thing is, Your Highness… Anna said that after you… did what you did… there was a—a storm, a blizzard, and the room was filled with ice. And… some… er, Anna was…. Anna was hit. Your… er, your ice got inside her."

Elsa nodded, then gestured for Hilde to continue, not feeling strong enough to speak. She gnawed at her pencil, her heart hammering as she remembered that horrible afternoon.

"Well, Highness, you see, the thing is," Hilde stammered, "is that I've seen… I've seen this before. This magic."

"What? When?" Elsa gasped, dropping the pencil in her astonishment.

"About… about five years ago," Hilde said. "We had sneaked into the castle, hoping to try and sell some watercress. We got lost, and found ourselves in a small garden. We tried to get out, but it was like a maze. We got lost. And then… and then we saw you."

"You saw me in the garden? Five years ago?" Elsa gasped, long-repressed memories surfacing. "Wait—that was you? Who else? You said 'we'…."

"Me… and my brother. Hans."

"Wait, Hans?" Elsa gasped in sudden recognition. "Our Hans? The footman? The boy I—I…." Elsa stopped and stared at the girl sitting opposite her. "The boy I froze?" she added in a horrified whisper, remembering the first time her ice had hurt someone. "That was him? You're his sister?"

Hilde nodded. "Your royal parents took us in, gave us jobs here—maybe sympathy, maybe to keep us quiet. But Hans—my big brother—when he woke up, he was… different. He… he wasn't Hans. Not any more."

"What do you mean?" Elsa asked, leaning forwards.

"He… he didn't remember me—that is, he remembered my name, but not that he was my brother, or even that he loved me. It was like he didn't care for me at all, or anyone. He was… he was cold. Angry. Hateful. He used to be so warm and loving, and now…. He hates anything nice, anything beautiful or good, and is always mean to people. Just like…."

"Just like Anna," Elsa breathed in sudden understanding as her heart soared in hope. "So that's why…. She isn't angry. She's just… her heart's just… frozen." She stopped, and let out a great sob. "By me! I did this. I did this all. It's all my fault…. Oh, Anna, I'm sorry…."

"Highness, please, don't cry!" Hilde exclaimed, shocked.

"It's my ice, my curse," Elsa whimpered. "It hurts everyone! Everyone!"

"Princess, please…" Hilde said, wondering if she dared try and comfort the princess. The Ice Princess, who was melting into a puddle of tears before her very eyes. Hilde would never have imagined it. Perhaps Anna had been right about her….

There was a quick knock on the door, and then Kaisson appeared.

"Highness, pardon the intrusion. Your royal father requests your presence. You are to—Girl! What are you doing in here!" he added, glaring at Hilde, who had immediately jumped to her feet.

"Stop, Kaisson," Elsa said, holding up a hand. She took a deep breath and stood up. _Control, control_, she told herself. _You must learn control!_ "Any guest I choose to entertain is no concern of yours. Do you understand? Or would you like me to inform my parents of how you dared strike me?"

The proud butler immediately bowed low, his face pale. "Once again, Highness, my most sincere apologies. I am truly mortified. Had I but known it was Your Highness, I would never—"

"I would hope you would never strike _any_ of the maids in this castle," Elsa said, her tone frigid. "They are _our_ maids, not yours, and under _our_ protection."

Kaisson dabbed at his forehead. "As you command, Highness. And of course, whomever you choose to converse with is entirely your own affair."

"Good. Tell my father I shall join them presently," Elsa said, rewarding him with a slightly strained smile. She turned to the maid, whose eyes had gone like saucers on hearing the butler admit to hitting his princess, and smiled more warmly. "Hilde, my friend, you have been of inestimable value to me. I shall talk with Mrs Gerdason about improving your position. How would you like to be an upstairs maid?"

Hilde's eyes went even rounder, and she scrambled to curtsey as low as she could. "Thank you ever so much, Highness."

Elsa gave her a grateful nod as Kaisson and Hilde left her room. Then she let out a long sigh of relief. It wasn't her. Anna didn't hate her after all—it was the fault of her magic, her curse. That was why her friend had been so… so unlike the real Anna. Of course that didn't mean Anna wouldn't be angry once she was back to normal, Elsa realised with a wry smile. But at least that Anna would listen to her, let her apologize properly.

But how to cure her? Knowing it was her ice magic that had caused it was not enough. Unlike natural snow, she couldn't just will it out of Anna. This was cursed ice, and she had no idea, not really, how it worked.

But there had been others before her—other Ice Princesses, other Snow Queens. Perhaps one of them had found a solution, or perhaps there was some mention in the lore of the Laplanders. Elsa immediately went to her library and started pulling down volumes, searching for everything she could find about the pagan beliefs of her distant ancestors, and the rites and rituals still practiced by the nomadic Sami reindeer herders. If the Old Gods were responsible for her curse, then they could also find out how to help Anna. There was a link—there had to be. And she would find it, no matter how long it took.

* * *

The princess clattered down the back stairs of the castle, one hand on the spiral railing to steady herself, then hurried out the door. In a moment she was in the familiar stables, scanning them.

"Kristoff! Kristoff!" she called.

There was a thump and a muffled oath, then the tousled blond hair of the stable-lad and delivery boy poked out from a stall. His eyes widened on catching sight of his princess, and he vaulted awkwardly over the stall door.

"Highness?"

"Kristoff, I need… a guide," Elsa said.

The blond boy's brow furrowed. "Where to, Highness?"

"A place called Hallen av Fjelletkongen."

Kristoff's jaw dropped. "The Hall of the Mountain King? Are you nuts?" he gasped. "Er, that is, I mean, are you sure, Your Highness?"

Elsa smiled. "I might be nuts, at that. I want to take Anna to see the _noaidi_. And as you're a Laplander, I thought you would make a good guide."

"Uh, might I ask why you want to…?"

"Take Anna to see a Sami shaman?" Elsa's expression darkened. "She's sick. Very sick. And I think… I hope… that the same gods that did this to me—" Elsa held out her gloved hands "—might be able to save my friend."

"She's sick?" Kristoff gasped, looking worried. "What's the matter with her?"

"According to Hilde, it's due to my ice—my magical ice. She said… that is, the same thing happened with Hans."

"Wait, Hans? You mean that Hans?"

Elsa nodded. "Hilde says he used to be a warm and loving boy, but ever since… I hurt him, he's been cold and cruel and hate-filled."

"Hans, warm and loving?" Kristoff repeated, shaking his head in disbelief. "Explains why he's such a bastard, I guess. Uh, pardon my language, Highness."

"I suppose it does," Elsa said, nodding. "So we'll take him and his sister as well."

"Sister? Hans has a sister?"

"Hilde."

"Wait, Hilde's his sister?" Kristoff's eyes went round. Then he shrugged. "The things I miss being out here…."

"Except he doesn't remember it. She does, but he doesn't. Just as Anna doesn't remember being my friend."

"And you think there's a connection?"

"I know there is," Elsa said. "I've done as much research as I can, and the old legends talk of how a Snow Queen, many, many centuries ago, had the power to change men's souls, make them bitter, hate-filled soldiers who would do her bidding without remorse or mercy."

Kristoff shuddered. "But… that's not you, is it? You're not making men do your bidding, are you?"

Elsa sighed. "It's the same magic, the same curse in me. I've taken away Anna's ability to feel anything but bitterness, hatred. She can only see the ugliness of life. And... I did it before. With Hans. I have to cure them both."

"Well, then," Kristoff said. "If Mr Jensen gets the horses ready, I can have the supplies loaded by this evening." He looked at her, concerned. "But… it's a long way away to the Hall of the Mountain King. Are… are we going alone, Highness?"

"My parents will be accompanying us," Elsa said. "Mother says we'll lodge with Lord Skarsgard, whose estate is out that way. That's where she stayed… before," she finished, looking down at her gloved hands.

Kristoff nodded. "Very well. Will His Majesty being riding _Sleipnir_?"

"Not this time. We'll all be together in the carriage."

The stable boy looked at her, a slight smile on his lips. "Hope I'm not taking a liberty, Princess, but your parents are really understanding about Anna."

"They are," Elsa said, tempted to tell him why they were so understanding; what her mother did to her. But it wasn't her secret to tell. So she just nodded. "Right. We want to leave first thing after breakfast tomorrow. Make sure we have all the supplies we need. And… we'll need two carriages. It's best I don't ride with Anna…."

* * *

"I damn well wish I knew why I have to come," Hans grumbled, looking at the two carriages drawn up in the castle forecourt with suspicion.

"Because it's an order," Hilde said. "From the king himself. You, me, Anna—we're all ordered to go with them."

"What the hell for, though?" he muttered.

"At least it gets us out of work for a day," Anna noted. She glanced at the carriages. "I really hope I don't have to ride with the princess."

"You hate her that much?" Hilde asked, wondering what the answer would be.

"Hate? No, I can't be bothered to waste time hating her."

"So what's the problem?"

"She just won't shut up," Anna snarled. "Always trying to be nice to me, to say she's sorry, to try and be friendly."

"I should like that, myself," Hilde said, under her breath so her roommate would not hear.

"At least there's none of that in the scullery, eh?" Hans said, grinning. "I dunno. I think I'd prefer superficial sucking up than having to scrub pots and pans all day."

"You don't know what she's like," Anna shot back. "There's something not right with her."

"We all know what that is," Hans told her.

Anna shook her head. "No, not that. There's something else... I can feel it each time I'm with her. It makes me feel strange, like something's really wrong. Unnatural. And I hate it."

"Right you lot!" The groom, Jensen, strode up to the servants, and gestured to the second carriage. "You're all in there together! I don't want you hanging about when their majesties arrive, so hop to it!"

Hilde followed Hans and Anna into the carriage, then sat looking out the small window as the king and queen, followed by the princess, walked down the main steps of the castle. The queen and the princess got into the lead carriage, while the king, after exchanging a few words with Jensen and Kristoff, entered as well. Then the groom mounted the lead carriage, and Kristoff took the reins of theirs, and, with a shouted command from the king, they were off.

* * *

"Where the devil are we going?" Hans muttered, glancing out of the window. "We've been climbing higher and higher in the mountains for hours, now."

"I wish you'd stop asking that," Anna said. She found his constant need to comment most irritating. It was as if his ego demanded that nothing could pass without his personal statement. Everything was irritating, mind. This carriage ride was tedious, for a start. Why on earth she and those other two had been ordered to come, she had no idea. Properly, Aslaug should be with the princess, and the queen's own maid with her, while the king would be accompanied by his valet.

Still, at least she didn't have to actually ride with the princess. God, what an annoying girl she was, Anna thought to herself. If she's a princess, why can't she at least act like one—haughty and proud, arrogant and stuck up? That at least Anna felt she could respect. It was how princesses were supposed to act. Not always trying to be her friend. What a truly ghastly notion that was. Anna shuddered at the idea. Why on earth would anyone want to be friends with that witch? A murdering witch. Not that Anna minded the murdering part. Whenever she thought of her father, which was generally only when someone was rude enough to mention him, she just felt nothing. Not even a hole, as a hole was something. She did remember how he used to treat her, and sometimes she felt she should actually be glad he was dead, but even that seemed too much bother. No, it was easier just to ignore his existence entirely.

The carriage jolted over a rock, startling her out of her reverie. She glanced out the window, and gasped. They were travelling along a narrow road cut out of the mountainside, and, just a few feet away from the carriage wheels, the slope fell away steeply, vanishing into a low layer of cloud.

"Great view, huh?" Hans called over, a confident smirk on his face. "Maybe they're taking us up to the top of the mountain to throw us off—what about that, eh?"

"They are not," Hilde shot back. "Why on earth would they do that?"

He shrugged. "Maybe we know too much…. More than we should know—about _her_…."

Anna snorted. "In your case knowing much wouldn't be hard."

Hans grinned at her. "Well, if we keep going up like this, maybe we'll end up in Jötunheimr, home of the frost giants. Hey, you think that's where the Ice Princess comes from?"

"Yes, because she's such a giant," Hilde responded, rolling her eyes.

"No, you stupid idiot," Hans said, ignoring the brief look of pain on Hilde's face, "I'm talking about her witchcraft. Come on, aren't you curious about it? Where it comes from?"

"I'm not," Anna remarked. "The less time I spend worrying about that silly girl, the better. There's something about her that I really cannot stand."

"What?"

She stared at him. "Like I'm going to tell you."

Anna turned away from him and gazed blankly out the window, her heart full of bitterness and anger. She had always been bitter and angry—it was what happened to you, growing up in the slums, having to beg for a living, with the rich constantly treating you as worse than filth.

Yet this was this even more annoying, persistent feeling, somewhere inside her, that this feeling wasn't right, wasn't natural. From time to time, Anna would even get the feeling that she actually liked the princess, which was a disgusting notion. How could she ever like one of _them_? And especially one so happy and cheerful? No, she and the princess were nothing alike—they were polar opposites. And always would be.

* * *

Elsa stared out the window, her heart full of sorrow and anxiety. Would this even work? Was she dragging everyone—her parents, Anna, Kristoff, and the others—on a wild goose chase, based only on a hunch she'd pieced together from fragmented clues in ancient texts? Would it actually make things worse?

Still, it was the only possible chance she could conceive of. Her mother had drawn on these ancient legends and beliefs to allow her to be born—that they had power was not the issue. Certainly they seemed to have more power than the Christian god she had always been raised to believe in, but who had never, as far as Elsa could tell, answered a single one of her prayers. Yet to call on these pagan deities was still something that did not sit right with her—or the way she preferred to see the world, as something observable, measurable, scientific.

Elsa smiled wryly to herself as she fiddled with her gloves: was she not living proof that the world was far from scientific? Living proof of the powers of these ancient gods? All her life, she had been disturbed by the clash between the neat, precise, ordered world as described by science and mathematics, and the chaotic, undisciplined one manifested by her powers. She had spent years trying to explain them scientifically, trying to find some theory, some explanation of how her magic could exist in a world where magic was, by definition, supernatural. And she had failed. The world was not only more complex and bizarre than she had imagined, she strongly suspected it was in fact more complex than she _could_ imagine.

Faith, in that case, was the only route left for her. Faith that her idea was right. Faith that the noaidi could cure Anna. Faith that curing Anna would restore the girl she had once considered her dearest friend.

And faith that perhaps one day this would all make sense….

The carriage jolted over another rock, then made a sharp turn, still heading uphill.

"Are we there yet?" Elsa asked.

"It shouldn't be too far, sweetie," her mother said. "Kristoff told Jensen to head into the Jerall Mountains via Niflungr Pass, then bear left into Trollheimen."

"Trollheimen? Home of the trolls?"

"It's just a name, dear. There's no such things as trolls."

Elsa gave a quick, bitter laugh. "I wouldn't be so sure. I'm not sure about anything. Not any more."

"It's getting late," the king said, glancing out the window. "Are you sure you don't want to stay the night at Lord Skarsgard's manor, and head up the mountain in the morning?"

Elsa shook her head. "The sooner the better. I want an end to this. Whatever that ends up being…."

* * *

The carriages finally came to a halt, and Anna peered out the window. The sun was low in the sky, which at this time of year, she knew, probably meant it was well after nine. The ride had become increasingly slow and uncomfortable as they had climbed, seemingly endlessly, through a series of valleys and passes. Now they appeared to be in a narrow valley, sheltered on three sides by steep forested slopes, and open to the southwest.

"Well, this is exciting," she commented dryly as they exited the carriage. "So where now?"

Hans shrugged. "Ours not to reason why," he said. "I guess we walk from here."

"Kristoff!" Hilde called, catching up to the blond boy. "Where are we going?"

"Huh? Didn't anyone tell you? Hallen av Fjelletkongen."

"The Hall of the Mountain King? What's that?"

Kristoff gestured to the massive mountain that loomed above them, its upper slopes still covered in snow. "That's Fjellet Kongen, the Mountain King. Biggest mountain in Arendelle."

"But that's North Mountain, Nordfjell," Hilde said, feeling confused.

"That's your name for it, yes," he replied. "But my people are a little more poetic, don't you think? Come on—you can't say that that's not the king of all mountains!"

Hilde shrugged. "I suppose so. I sort of thought the mountain king was a person, though."

Kristoff laughed. "No, definitely not. The hall is a sacred chamber underneath the mountain. Outsiders are not allowed in, though, so you'll probably have to wait outside."

"Suits me," Hans said. "Better than getting lost in a dark cave."

"Hurry up!" Anna called. "I want to get this over with so we can get out of this nasty place."

* * *

The small group walked along the well-worn path, which gradually rose higher and higher as they passed deeper into the shadow of the Mountain King. The slopes on either side grew closer and closer, and then they topped a low ridge and found themselves looking down into a small secluded valley, surrounded by steep cliffs.

A large stone stood by the path, with offerings of bronze and antlers carefully laid out before it.

"What is this?" Elsa asked, curious about the isolated monolith.

"It is a _siedi_, Highness," Kristoff explained. "An offering stone."

"Oh, I've read about those," Elsa said. "But I've never seen one before…."

The princess walked up to the ancient stone, which rose, sharp and angular, high above her. The tip was still illuminated by the setting sun, making it look as if it were almost glowing, while the rest of it was in bluish shadow. It was strange to think that for centuries, or even millennia, people had been coming here, making offerings, asking for favours and the protection of the spirit world, whose entrances they guarded. Elsa shivered. There was such a feeling of age from this stone, a deep connection to her pagan ancestors. She removed a glove, then slowly reached out and touched it, letting her fingers caress the coarse surface. The rock felt warm under her fingers. Elsa knew it was just radiating out the heat it had absorbed during the day, but it almost felt as if the stone was alive, a living rock, beating with the hearts of her far-distant ancestors.

"Come, Elsa," the queen said, interrupting her reverie. "It will be dark soon."

"Yes, Mother," Elsa said, taking one last look at the stone before hurrying after the king and queen into the shaded valley.

As they walked along, men in strange garb appeared out of the trees and began accompanying them. Elsa found herself sticking as close to her mother as she could, but the men were unarmed, smiling, and Kristoff was calling out to them, greeting them by name.

Then one man, with a great blond-white beard, moved to stand in front of them. He smiled, and bowed his head briefly.

"Welcome, O King, to Dalen av Levende Klippe. I am Aslak."

"Er, thank you," Agdar said, looking somewhat uncomfortable. "Awfully sorry to just drop in on you like this, but… er…."

"We may not be your people, O King, but we are the same people, and we welcome you as such. You, the Sea Sami, living along the coasts and fishing, may have accepted the religion of the invaders, taken on their culture, but at heart you are still the same as us. We, the Mountain Sami, still prefer our reindeer, however…."

"I know you do, Kristoff," Elsa added, giving the blond boy a quick smile. "A little too much, in fact."

Kristoff shrugged, then grinned. "Sven's better company than most people, anyway—and more intelligent."

"So what brings you here, to the Sami encampment at the Valley of the Living Rock?" Aslak asked.

The queen indicated Anna, who was standing off to one side. "My daughter's… uh, friend has been hurt."

"Hurt? How? Why come to us?"

"I hurt her," Elsa whispered. "With my… my curse."

"Oh." He stared at her briefly, then nodded. "Of course. I remember your mother's visit, many years ago. Follow me. The noaidi will be in the Hall of the Mountain King."

"He's not expecting us, is he?"

Aslak smiled. "He is the Seer. If you were going to come, of course he is expecting you."

The small group followed the Sami chieftain up a narrow, rocky path that wound through the trees, then ended in a clearing, in the middle of which was a small circle of ancient, weather-worn stones. One side of the clearing backed onto the cliff, which was rent by a huge cleft over fifty feet high in its face, beyond which was only blackness.

"Wait here," Aslak said, and headed towards the great cave.

Elsa looked up at the clear sky. It was night by now, and the stars were out. She could make out the great band of the Milky Way, the breast milk of Hera according to the classical Greek myths she had studied. What, she wondered, did these Mountain Sami see the stars as?

Then she became conscious of a strange sound in the air, a unearthly thrumming that sounded like a hornet, rising and falling. It was coming from the cave, and she could now also hear a drum being beaten softly. Voices rose on the still air, female voices in a wordless chant to a tune unlike any she had heard before.

Elsa shivered. This was so unlike anything she had experienced at home, unlike anything she associated with European culture. And yet it was, almost literally, just on her doorstep. Her lessons, her education, everything around her had been so focused on the southern countries, the great cultural empires from Rome to Britain that had vied for control of the continent. Yet there was almost nothing in her studies about this culture, so alien yet so near.

Entranced, she listened to the strange music, the singing and the drumming, watching as people emerged from the cave and took up positions around the stone circle. Aslak, in the lead, was the one making the strange humming noise, and she realised that he was using a bullroarer, one of humanity's oldest musical instruments.

Then the music and chanting suddenly stopped.

"So… this is the young princess," came a new voice, and Elsa spun around. An old man was slowly approaching them. He was very short—barely even half her height, and his legs were bowed, making him appear even shorter.

"This… this is my daughter, Elsa," the queen said, dipping her head in greeting. "Elsa, this is the Sami shaman, Dovregubben. He… he is the noaidi who… helped me before."

"Bring everyone closer, so that I can see them," Dovregubben said. "My eyes are not as young as they once were. Not their majesties. Nor you, Kristoff."

"Uh, yes, grandpappy," the blond boy said, standing back near the king and queen as the others gathered around the tiny old man.

He looked at them, his eyes moving from one to the other slowly, carefully examining them. Then he nodded at Hans.

"What is your name, boy?" he asked.

Hans raised an eyebrow. "My name? What do you want to know my name for? We're here for Anna, though I can't imagine why."

"And for you. You too have the Ice Princess's curse within you. It has affected your memories, and your heart. You no longer remember who you are."

"I'm Hans, you senile old dwarf," the young man spat. "I know exactly who I am!"

"Do you indeed? Well, this will not take much to rectify." The noaidi gestured to Aslak, who handed him a wide, shallow drum which he then proceeded to beat, making a sound like distant thunderclaps, while chanting something in the back of his throat. Then he placed the drum aside, and quickly laid a staff of wood, decorated with twigs of birch, on Hans's head before the young man could object. There was a brief flash of blue-green light, and Hans staggered, then collapsed.

"What… what happened?" Hilde cried. "Is he all right?"

Dovregubben gave Hans a light kick. "Of course. Get up, you lazy boy."

Hans moaned and rubbed his head, then opened his eyes. He looked around, confusion on his face, then blinked. "What just happened? I feel… I feel strange…."

"Hans!" Hilde called. "Do you… do you know who I am?"

Hans slowly got to his feet, never taking his eyes off Hilde. "Wait… I know you…. You're… Hilde…." Then his face broke into a huge smile. "Hilde! My sister Hilde! My God, it's Hilde! I remember! Oh, Hilde, what happened? I… I remember, but… I don't remember…. You were there, I remember, but… I didn't know who you were…. I was so cold, so dead inside. Hilde, I'm… I'm so sorry…."

"Oh, Hans, I love you!"

Elsa looked on, her eyes wide, as Hilde rushed into Hans's arms, and hugged him tightly.

"And I love you, little sister…" he murmured, tears filling his eyes.

"What? What's this?" Anna demanded. "You said you weren't in love with Hans!"

Hilde glanced over at her roommate, a huge smile on her tear-streaked face. "Of course not, silly! He's my brother!"

"Your brother?" Anna gasped as the two siblings moved away, hand in hand, following Aslak back to the campsite. "What's going on?" she asked the noaidi.

"All will be made clear," he said. He paused, and smiled. "Or at least, clearer than it is now. True clarity is reserved for the gods. But it is good to see you again, young Anna."

"Again?" Anna raised an eyebrow. "I've never met you in my life. And I know I'd remember someone as short and ugly as you!"

"I, on the other hand, have kept an eye over you for some time," the shaman said, studiously ignoring her insults. "I have watched you grow into a warm, compassionate, loving girl, who has seen the very worst of humanity and has never lost that glow in her heart. At least, until now."

"Because of what I did," Elsa whispered, while Anna made a face, staring at the old man with undisguised loathing.

"Yes. Your powers have grown strong, young Elsa." The old man looked up at her out of piercing blue eyes. "Show me."

"Uh, show you?" Elsa asked, feeling her heart jump.

He nodded. "The _ismakt_."

Elsa glanced at her mother, who nodded. Then she removed her glove again and held up her bare hand, making the tiniest of motions. Glowing in the evening gloom, a sparkle of snowflakes danced in the cool air.

The noaidi nodded. "Good. That is not all, however."

Elsa slowly shook her head.

"Then show me," he grunted.

"Uh, what do you mean?"

"Show me what you can do," the old man said.

Elsa nodded, then spun her hand, creating an intricate dance of snowflakes that slowly coalesced into a snowball, which then exploded, raining tiny flakes of ice over them all.

"I know that is not the limit of what you can do," Dovregubben said calmly.

"Uh, no, but…."

"Reach into your heart," he said gently. "Find what you are, what you can do, and let it go."

The princess bit her lip, then, with a quick glance at Anna, who was looking extremely bored, took a few steps back, putting some distance between her and the others. She reluctantly took off her other glove and then made a quick sweep with her arms. As she did, a circular wall of ice columns sprang up from the ground, curving up and over the princess, while lethal jagged spikes grew out in every direction, their needle-sharp tips glinting in the last light of the evening. Elsa was left isolated in the centre of the creaking and groaning ice structure, her family and friends kept back by an impenetrable barrier of magical ice.

"Very impressive," Dovregubben said, tapping the ice with the long staff he was carrying. "You have great powers. But there is also much fear in there. There is so much beauty you could create, but not before you conquer your fears." He gestured to Aslak, who made a sign. Several Sami men trotted up bearing torches, which they used to start melting the ice. "You are afraid of hurting others, and being hurt as well," he added.

"Look, please, I don't mean to be rude, but can you help Anna?" Elsa asked, clenching her hands in front of her. "Like you did with Hans? With that staff thing you used."

"The _varro muorra_, the offering-wood?" Dovregubben asked, holding it out. He looked at her, tugging at his beard. "It's not quite that simple," he said. "You were much younger when your ice struck Hans. There was much less power, much less fear and anger in it. Once his memories were returned, that was enough. He could thaw his own heart, when he saw his sister and remembered that he had once loved her. But with Anna…." He shook his head. "I can return her memories of loving you. But not the emotion. No magic I know can thaw her frozen heart. The only one who can do that is you."

"How?" Elsa gasped. "It was my curse that did this to her!"

"It is not a curse," the noaidi said. "Or, rather, it is both a gift and a curse. As with everything the gods grant us, it is how it is used that makes it good or evil. Your powers can create great harm, great sorrow, this is true. But they can also create great beauty. Your curse comes from your fear, your worry. And your gift, the beauty of your gift, comes from your love. And that is what you must regain."

"And how do I do that?"

The old man shrugged. "I do not know."

"Some help you are!" Anna scoffed.

"Come here, child," the old man said. "Let me look at you."

Reluctantly, Anna moved closer to the dwarf, making a slight face. His blue eyes slowly scanned her, searching for something.

"The princess has had problems controlling her powers. It is to be expected. But not so much when with Anna, am I right?"

Elsa nodded. "Exactly! We used to be best friends," she said, glancing shyly at Anna, "before… I hurt her. I never had any problems when I was with her. We would have fun together, playing with my snow."

"My… my daughter just needs to learn to control her power, her emotions," the queen said.

The short man looked up at the queen, and smiled. "It is not that simple to control your emotions. But there are ways to make it easier. There must be a balance. You are aware that your desire to have a child caused an imbalance in the cosmos, stirring up the rivalry between the twin gods Biegkegaellies and Bieggolmai."

The queen nodded. "I am painfully aware of that fact, thank you."

"We all are," the king added. "Please, can you do anything to fix this imbalance?"

The noaidi looked at the assembled Arendellians, and shook his head. "The imbalance has already been fixed. There is nothing to correct. Winter has been offset with summer. The child of the Winter Winds has been countered by the child of the Summer Winds, a child of summer."

"What do you mean?" the king asked. "What are you talking about?"

The noaidi nodded at Anna, ignoring her snort of derision. "She is the one who brings balance. She is the summer to your winter. Only she can provide the balance you need to control your powers."

"And why only me, old man?" Anna demanded. "I don't want to be her balance! Chained to her for the rest of my life?"

"You have no choice. You are already part of her life. You have been from the moment you were born."

"What? Why? How?"

He smiled. "Because, my dear, you are her sister. You are Princess Anna of Arendelle."

.

* * *

**KNOWTES:**

Okay, hands up who totally didn't see that twist coming miles away. Anyone?

[**…_crickets…_**]

Fair enough, I guess. I've enjoyed foreshadowing it too much, and besides, it's based on a story where they are sisters, so it's not as if it's a huge shock anyway. The real question is, is it a shock to our characters? If they believe it is, or rather, we believe that they believe it is, then it works as a story, one that doesn't lose on the re-reading (always assuming anybody can be bothered to re-read this, of course….). After all, we don't avoid re-watching Star Wars now that we know [SPOILER**!**] that Darth Vader is Luke's father (Darth Vader = Dark Father – it's not subtle).

I didn't actually set out to make them sisters, and initially resisted the idea as it felt too cheap and cheesy. But then I realized that to give Anna a true happy ending, a fairytale ending, it wasn't enough for her to be the princess's lady's maid—she had to be a princess herself. In other words, she and Elsa would have to be truly equal to be truly friends with each other.

And besides, this is a story with magic in it—it is a fairy tale, really. So I'm allowed to have crazy coincidences like this. And in fact it's not really that much of a coincidence, as I hope to explain a little more in the next chapter.

Okay, on with my regular lecture on things I knew nothing about before researching this chapter and had to fake expertise in...

I actually checked up on the discovery of oxygen, making sure that it was in fact suitably before this story is set. And it was—in this 1770s, with three key men working on the issue more or less separately, and contributing different aspects to our knowledge of it. The guy who actually named it was the third, Antoine Lavoiser.

Olaus Magnus's _Historia om de Nordiska Folken_ (A Description of the Northern Peoples) is a real book, published in Rome in 1555, and is, according to Wikipedia, a valuable repertory of much curious information in regard to Scandinavian customs and folk-lore. The original is in Latin ("nix regina" is "snow queen"), but I have kept the standard Norwegian title to make it easier to understand in the story (the Latin title, _Historia de Gentibus Septentrionalibus_, isn't very clear at all).

"Hallen av Fjelletkongen" is Norwegian(ish) for "Hall of the Mountainking," the latter two smooshed together to make it seem more like a placename. Probably very bad Norwegian grammar. And Sleipnir is Odin's steed. However, the king's horse only has four legs, not eight.

The old legend about the Snow Queen who had the power to freeze men's hearts to create an army is not actually a real legend—I just made it up as a way to connect the ice around the heart with the negative emotions in a stronger way.

"The world was not only more complex and bizarre than she had imagined, she strongly suspected it was in fact more complex than she could imagine" is paraphrased from JBS Haldane's famous quotation, "My own suspicion is that the Universe is not only queerer than we suppose, but queerer than we can suppose." It should be noted that Haldane is using the word "queerer" in its original sense, and is not pondering on the prevalence of LGBT among the stars….

The Jerall Mountains are the mountains which separate the Nord realm of Skyrim in the game of that name. "Niflungr" is the Old Norse for Nibelungen, about which Wagner wrote a massive opera, the Ring of the Nibelungen. Trollheimen is actually a real place in Norway, but the modern Trollheimen is simply a tourist name for the mountain range. Lovely scenery, however—or at least the photos make it look nice. The pyramidal peak of Innerdalstårnet there looks like a nice place to build an ice castle, if there are any Ice Princesses out there looking for some real estate….

"Ours not to reason why" is taken from the 1854 poem Charge of the Light Brigade, which was written later than this is set, but as they're not speaking English in "reality" I'm not too worried about that sort of thing. Even the film has them using rather anachronistic words like "okay." Not to mention "fractals."

The sunset times are taken from websites about such things, and based, as before, on Bergen, the model for Arendelle's townscapes.

"North Peak" or "North Mountain" is a really prosaic name. Grand mountains need grand names. Mt. Everest is named after… (drum roll) the former Surveyor-General of India. Woopty-doo. The Tibetan name, Chomolungma_, __means __Goddess Mother of the_ _World_, which you have to admit is cooler. Mind you, not only did Everest himself not like the idea, one of the reasons for that was that there were so many competing local names and it was hard to find that one name that everyone could agree on. So they chose one everyone hated I guess. So I have taken the name Mountain King from Grieg's famous composition, which refers to an actual king, and borrowed it to use as the name of the mountain itself.

A _siedi_ is as I have tried to explain in the text. As Wikipedia notes, in the landscape throughout Northern Scandinavia, one can find _sieidis_, places that have unusual land forms different from the surrounding countryside. Sami shamanism considers these spiritual 'focal points' and worships them as gateways to the spirit world.

"Dalen av Levende Klippe" means "Valley of the Living Rock." I hope. While the Disney name is taken from the trolls, of course, here the connection is through the siedi stone, how Elsa feels like she can sense the living souls of the ancestors in the spirit world within it. Which I personally think is a way more culturally and spiritually significant reason….

"Dovregubben" is the name of the troll king from Ibsen's Peer Gynt, the mountain king of the famous musical work by Grieg. It literally means "old man of the highlands," so works well here I think. Also, as he is not actually a troll, it acts as a connection to the troll character in the Disney film. His short stature, however, is a nod to the short stature of Grand Pabbie in _Frozen_. And I might as well make him Kristoff's actual grandfather…

Aslak is named after Aslak Hætta, a leader of the 1852 Kautokeino Uprising, which was a revolt by a group of Sami against representatives of the Norwegian authorities. There's no story-based connection to this (I have no plans to write a sequel about a rebellion by the Sami against Arendelle in which Elsa finds herself torn between two worlds or anything like that. Or at least not at this stage…), but I just like referencing real names from the historical period I've set this story in. The uprising was the only known confrontation between Samis and Norwegians that resulted in the loss of human lives. Really, I could not write this story like this without Wikipedia….

Talking of the Sami, I've made the kingdom of Arendelle into a completely fictitious tribe of the very non-fictitious Sea Sami. In my fake timeline, these Sami accepted Christianity and mainstream European culture, while the equally non-fictitious Mountain Sami, the reindeer-herders, remained independent and retained their culture. This is partially to explain why Arendelle is a separate nation to Norway and why their clothing has Sami motifs, and partially to give the royal family a little more connection to the Ancient Gods, a little more connection to the land. The broad timeline as I see it has a tribe of Sea Sami taking up Viking ways, then being Christianized.

The stone circle is like not the Neolithic ones of Britain, but a later style, about two thousand years old, used as gravesites and so on. I wanted a stone circle as a very slight call-out to the one in _Brave_, where the climax of the film happened. These stones are smaller, however. And there won't be any bear fights. Or bare-bottomed babies.

The noaidi drum and song is based on some Sami shaman music videos I managed to find on YouTube. I hope it's reasonably authentic, without getting into too much detail. The singing is called "yoiking," and there are quite a few videos out there. "Yoik of the Wind" is very beautiful.

All the facts about the Sami ritual music and stuff (at least the stuff that isn't clearly magical) I have shown is based on research I have done, so, barring (a) me getting the wrong idea from what I read and (b) the websites I consulted being wildly inaccurate, it should all be as explained in the text. The Sami word for shaman is _noaidi_, which means "the one who sees," And the old Sami word for the drum is _govadas_, and it means "an instrument to develop pictures with." The actual ritual I have described, however, is of course entirely made up.

And I shall return with the next chapter in a week, I hope. There'll be two more chapters after this, I have decided.

[Posted 22-2-15]

[Edited: 25 April 2015. "his legs _was_ bowed"? Oh dear.]


	22. And Angel-like She Shall Arise

**22\. And Angel-like She Shall Arise**

[**Last time on ****_Living Flower_**: Seeing the same thing happen to her brother, Hilde has told Elsa what exactly is wrong with Anna, and so they have all travelled to the remote Valley of the Living Rock, under the shadow of the Mountain King, to consult the wise Sami shaman. Who has revealed that Anna is in fact Elsa's long-lost sister….]

* * *

"What!?" Elsa and Anna cried at almost the same time. They stared at each other in mutual disbelief, sudden wild joy on Elsa's face, and horror on Anna's.

"Anna, are you… is this true?" Elsa gasped, unable to take her eyes away from her maid—no, her sister… her _sister_? Her heart soared, not daring to allow herself to believe. Could this possibly be true? How could it be? But what if it was…? Elsa felt faint, and grabbed at her mother for support.

"I can't be her sister!" Anna spat. "Like hell I'm a bloody princess! I had a mother, a father, a grandmother! A brother! And they're all gone! But I never had no sister! I don't want a sister!"

"Explain, shaman," the king said tersely, looking around at the others, confusion and anger on his face. "Our second child died a few hours after her birth. If this is some sort of sick joke, I promise you, you will live to regret it."

"All will be revealed," the shaman said, holding up a hand. "First, however, I must return something to you."

"Return?"

The old man rummaged in his satchel, and brought out a large purple stone.

"What is that?" the king asked. "A gemstone?"

The shaman shook his head. "Memories."

"Memories?"

"When your youngest child, Princess Anna, was born, she was taken away from you. And your memories of her birth were removed, replaced with false ones. For nine years now you have believed that Princess Elsa was an only child, and that the queen's second pregnancy had resulted in tragedy."

"What!" the king thundered. "Who would do this to us? Who would dare kidnap the king's own child? A princess of the blood royal!"

"It was part of the bargain the queen made, unknowingly, with the Old Gods."

Idun shook her head. "I would never agree to that!" she exclaimed, near tears. "To give up my child? Never!"

"You had no choice," Dovregubben said. "The cosmos was in imbalance. Bieggolmai, the God of the Summer Winds, had granted you the ability to conceive, to have Elsa. You know that this angered his twin, Biegkegaellies, the God of the Winter Winds."

"Which is why I am… what I am," Elsa added, her tone flat, her eyes gazing blankly beyond the circle of ancient standing stones that surrounded them.

The noaidi nodded. "He inflicted your winter powers on you, to try and balance summer with winter. However, when the queen gave birth to her second child, Bieggolmai feared that his twin would inflict the same curse on her. So the night Anna was born, Sarakka, the goddess of childbirth, fertility, and love, took the baby away to raise in secret, hidden from the Winter Winds, and changed all your memories of her birth."

"What? No!" the queen screamed, and would have struck the old shaman had the king not grabbed her. "How dare you! How dare you!" she shrieked, tears streaming down her face. "How could you rob a mother of her child?"

"It was not I, O Queen," Dovregubben said, taking a step or two back. "The cosmic forces you were dealing with are vast and powerful, and we humans can sense but a tiny fraction of them. Even I, with all my decades of learning, can only see the tiny ripples that break upon the shore, and the great waves that stir the deep oceans will remain an eternal mystery until the day I join my ancestors."

"Make sense!" the king growled, supporting the queen, who had collapsed sobbing on the ground while Elsa stood there frozen, her hands clapped to her mouth, and Anna carefully studied her fingernails, looking bored.

"Interfering with fate can have strange and terrible consequences," the shaman said. "One small favour from a god can snowball, if you will pardon the expression, into something you never dreamed of. Inadvertently, your family has ended up becoming victims of the unending struggle between Bieggolmai and Biegkegaellies, between summer and winter."

"What? What do you mean?" the king asked, his face ashen. "What does this have to do with our child—our children?"

"The queen's second child, the first she conceived naturally, could become a balance against the forces of winter the elder princess embodied. Blessed by the God of the Summer Winds, Anna would be a balance to Elsa. A child of summer, for a child of winter. But part of this balance meant that Anna would have to be her opposite in every way. So while Elsa grew up a pampered princess, Anna was taken away, left on the street in the very poorest part of town. Where she was found by an elderly charwoman on her way home one night, who took the abandoned baby back with her and raised her as her own grandchild."

"What!" Anna shouted. "I had to live a life as a beggar for some stupid bloody cosmic nonsense? You little bastard! You and your bloody gods—I spit in their faces! And yours!" she added, launching a gob at the shaman.

He waved his staff, deflecting the spittle. "Again, this was not my doing. This was due to your mother's need for a child."

"My mother!" Anna shrieked. "I don't have a mother! My grandmother raised me, not… not this person! She will never be my mother! Never!"

"Shaman, are those our memories, in that stone?" the king asked, pointing at it. "If so, perhaps you had better restore them now. Before some of us say things we might regret."

"Very well. Come here, and kneel down, please."

"Kneel before you?" The king balked, raising an eyebrow. "A king kneels before no earthly man."

"Alas, I am not very tall," the old man said with a smile, looking up at them. "I am not seeking your fealty, never fear. I merely have to reach your foreheads."

The king sighed, then gingerly got to his knees, followed by the queen.

"Hold this, both of you," the noaidi said, handing them the purple stone. Then he began beating on his drum again, chanting an ancient yoik. The stone in the king and queen's hands began glowing, pulsating, casting a flickering purple light over them. The old man reached out to the stone, touched it, then touched the king and queen on their foreheads. Then there was a brilliant flash, and two streamers of purple lights streaked towards their foreheads, flickering and shimmering, then faded away as the noaidi finished his chant.

King Agdar and Queen Idun looked at each other, staring into each other's eyes for a long minute. Then, wordlessly, they hugged.

"My dear, don't weep," Agdar said in a soft voice. "It's over now. We can be a family again."

"My little girl," Idun sobbed. "My little Anna." Her lip trembling, she looked up at the stunned maid. "To think I had to miss all those years of you growing up—your first steps, your first word. I'm so sorry, I couldn't be the mother that you deserved. Can you forgive me?"

"Forgive you?" Anna gasped, stepping back, a look of horror on her face. "You're not my mother! I don't want anything to do with you, or your daughter! You're not my family! My family was my grandmother, my brother! My family is all dead!"

"O shaman, can you not restore her memories?" the queen asked, her face pale. "Hers and my daught—hers and Elsa's?"

The old man shook his head. "There are no memories to restore. Princess Anna was taken from you almost as soon as she was born. They never spent any time together as sisters."

"But—but we did as friends!" Elsa gasped. "Anna has forgotten that we used to be friends! Forgotten that she loved me as a friend! Can you at least give her back those memories? Please, I beg of you!"

"I can restore those memories, yes," Dovregubben said. "They are still within her. The head, at least, can be persuaded, even if the heart is not so malleable." He looked at her sharply. "But remember, there is no magic I can do that can make her love you."

"Just… just give her back memories of us being friends," Elsa begged. "That's all I ask."

He nodded. "Anna, come here and stand with your sister."

"She is not my sister!"

"Stand by your princess and mistress, then," the old man said, shrugging.

After Anna reluctantly took her place at Elsa's side, the noaidi began his chanting again, raising up his sacred _varro muorra_ staff and inscribing intricate patterns in the air with the tip, following the curves of the aurora that were slowly appearing in the night sky. To Elsa, it seemed almost as if he were drawing them, creating their sinuous waves through magic.

"Anna, bend down."

"Why?" Anna retorted.

"I must restore your memories."

"Will it hurt? Because I have enough of a headache with all your moaning as it is."

He looked at her face, pursing his lips. "A headache? Show me. Where does it hurt?"

Anna gestured to a spot high on her right temple.

"Bend down. Let me see."

"There's nothing there," Anna grumbled, but bent low anyway, making a great fuss about it. She shuddered as the old man's wrinkled fingers probed her hair, wishing she could be quit of the entire affair. Ever since she had arrived at the castle her entire world had been thrown into disarray, and she yearned for the simple, plain world she understood. Poor as it was, it was _her_ world.

"I thought so," the shaman said. "Look," he added, gesturing to the others. "Anna's hair is turning white just here, at the roots. This is where a bolt of magical ice entered her, splintering her memories."

"White hair?" Anna gasped. "I'm too young for white hair! Get rid of it!"

"It is harmless," the shaman said. "In time, you will have a lock of white hair. That is all. We have more pressing matters to attend to."

The noaidi touched his sacred staff briefly to Anna's forehead, and made a quick motion with his free hand. Anna gasped and stumbled back, rubbing her head where the _varro muorra_ had touched it. Her face distorted, almost as if she were in pain, and she bent double, holding her knees, and breathing deeply. Then she straightened up, and looked at the shaman.

"Huh. My headache's gone. Now maybe I can finally think straight."

"Anna…?" Elsa ventured. "Do… do you remember us being friends? Do you remember that?"

Anna nodded, her face calm. "Yes. I remember everything we did."

"So… you remember we were friends? You remember the fun we had?"

"I remember that we were friends, yes," Anna replied. "I do not recall it being fun, however."

Elsa blanched, then the queen moved towards Anna.

"Anna?" she asked, her voice soft, hesitant. "Do you remember me?"

"You are Queen Idun," Anna replied, dropping in a slight curtsey.

"I'm… I'm your mother," the queen said, her voice catching. "Do… do you understand that? Oh, Anna, when I saw you that day, dressed up in Elsa's clothes, I—I was surprised. You looked so much like I did when I was your age. And, for a brief moment, I remembered the child I lost, and wondered if she would have looked like you. And now… I know. Anna, my love, my child. Oh, I am so happy to see you again. Now we can go home together, as a family…."

Disbelief and disgust filled Anna's face. She began slowly backing away as she stared at the kind, welcoming, pleading faces, lit an unearthly green by the far-off aurora, of the people who claimed to be her family. This was wrong. This was very, very wrong. She felt nothing for them—they were strangers to her. Remote, distant, untouchable strangers, and royalty to boot. Everything she was not. They were a world apart; a world she wanted nothing to do with.

"There must be a mistake," she said. "This ugly old dwarf has been lying to you. I don't remember my mother, but I know you are not her. The princess is not my sister. Your castle is not my home."

"It is, Anna," the queen said. "It was before, when you were a maid, and it is still, even more so."

"Anna, please," Elsa begged. "Think back to the times we spent together! The fun we had together!"

"I remember them," Anna replied. "But that is not who I am. The girl you thought I was, that wasn't the real me. This is the real me."

"But Anna, it's not!" Elsa cried, gripping her ice-covered hands together as snowflakes started to gather in the air. "This is the fault of my curse!"

"No, that girl who was your friend, she was afraid, scared. She was weak. I'm not going to be that girl again! You've opened my eyes, let me see the world for what it really is. Nothing but lies. And now you're trying to tell me my whole life has been a lie! That everything I am is a lie!"

"No, Anna, it was… it was part of the curse of the gods! The gods just toy with us for their sport, like children playing cruel games."

"So every time my father beat me, that was just a game to them? Some game to balance the cosmos? Every bruise was to appease your gods? To become what the princess—_the princess_!" Anna spat the words "—needed? I was just a tool, a puppet? I went through a lifetime of poverty and hunger and nearly froze to death for that? For her? No! I won't accept it! It's a lie! A lie!"

"But you're our child," the queen said. "We love you!"

"Stop saying that!" Anna cried, blocking her ears. "How can you? You don't even know me! I'm just a maid you barely even noticed!"

"Anna, you're our daughter—of course we love you…."

"I don't love you!" Anna shot back in a sudden fury as the wind increased. "I don't love any of you! I could never love you! You can force me to stay, you can keep me prisoner in your castle, but you'll never force me to love you!"

Anna's mind was screaming. It was too much. All the changes in her life since that fateful morning when she had been rescued by the princess. After everything that had happened, being a scullery maid, being a lady's maid, being the friend and confidant of the princess, then back being beaten by her father, and now, of all things, being told that she herself was the long-lost younger princess? What was her life? A cosmic joke? Anna shook her head, trying to block everything out. It was all too much—all she wanted to do was run away, back to her old home, where, whatever else might be wrong, at least she always knew what she was, who she was.

"Anna, don't be afraid," the queen called. "We're your family."

"No!" Anna shouted into the gathering gale, snow whirling around inside the stone circle. "You're not my family! You're not!" She took a deep breath. "How can you expect me to suddenly forget everything I am, everything I know, and become another person entirely? Who is this Princess Anna? She's not me! I'm Anna Sommersdatter! My mother was Sommer Mathisdatter, not you!"

"But…" Elsa gasped. "Please, Anna—we were such good friends! Don't you remember?"

"Yes, I remember, but that wasn't me!" Anna said. "That was the old me! Maybe I loved you once. But that was before your curse did this to me, made me someone different. And now you all want me to be yet another person? This princess? I can't! I won't! I'm Anna, I'm not your plaything, and I'm not your sister! I hate even being around you! I'm going back home—home to Hvitekapellet! Back to where I belong! Where I can be me again!"

"I won't let you!" Elsa cried. "I can't lose you again!"

"Just leave me be! Let me be alone and free!"

"Agdar," the queen gasped, "can't you do something? Order her to stay?"

"I'm afraid not, my dear," he replied. "Perhaps in time she will return of her own accord."

"You cannot force her to stay," the shaman said gently. "Unless you truly do intend to make her a prisoner."

Elsa buried her face in her hands, snow flying around her, muffling her sobs. "You're… you're right," she gasped, her voice catching. "I can't… I can't do that to her. I can't hurt her more than I already have." She slowly straightened and looked at Anna, her lip trembling. "I… I won't hurt her any more. I promised her that."

"Elsa, darling, are you sure?" the queen asked, caressing her eldest daughter's face.

Elsa nodded. "It's… it's all right, Mamma," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "If… if Anna can no longer stand being near me…. I couldn't force her to stay, not if that would make her unhappy." She looked over at the cold and distant face of her friend, hot tears streaming down her cheeks. "Anna… if you really cannot bear to be around us, around me… then you can go. One day, if you ever want to return…. Just know I'll always be waiting. I'll always be there for you."

The princess started slowly approaching the maid, who looked at her with suspicion and fear.

"Stay away," Anna said. "Stay away from me, you're dangerous."

"I… I will. But… please, at least let me say good-bye. Oh, Anna," she sobbed, suddenly throwing her arms around the other girl, hugging her tight before Anna could react. "You're my best friend, and… and my sister. No matter what you say, I'll always love you."

The Ice Princess's burning tears trickled down her cheeks and onto the maid's chest, flowing over her pale skin. In the sky, the aurora began glowing more strongly, their low murmurings growing louder as they shifted and moved, changing colour from green to red and purple and blue, then back to green, spreading out until they covered half the sky. The entire stone circle was bathed in their light, paling the torches the watching Sami carried. Elsa's circling snowstorm sparkled and gleamed like a blizzard of stars, its dancing flakes filling the air. As the light in the sky grew more and more brilliant, its glow reaching down to them, the warm tears on Anna's skin slowly vanished into the girl's left breast, sinking through her skin, and finally trickling all the way down into her frozen heart.

It seemed to Anna as if she were coming up for air from a long, deep dive, her lungs bursting, or had moved from a dark, cold room into the brightest summer sunlight. The events since that dreadful day were shifting, sliding around inside her, somehow remaining exactly the same but seeming completely different, as if she had viewed them through another's eyes. The negativity, the anger, the coldness around her heart were all vanishing like the morning dew under a warm summer sun, letting her heart soar with so many sensations she had forgotten. Tears filled her eyes, washing them clean as emotions suddenly flooded through her, blinding her in their intensity; she felt as if she were experiencing every feeling there was, but one in particular quickly dominated, rising from her heart like a geyser, powerful and unstoppable. One she had not felt since that fateful day when her sister's curse had struck her down.

* * *

Slowly, gradually, Elsa became aware of a returning pressure on her back, of hot tears on her cheek that were not her own, of sobs that came from another throat.

"Oh, Elsa," came a familiar whisper in her ear. "I will always love you, too."

"Agdar, look," the queen breathed, her arms around her husband. The two girls were surrounded by a heavenly green glow as long tendrils from the unseasonable aurora above them reached down and touched them, enveloping them in its caresses. The princesses seemed to glow as brightly as the northern lights themselves as they hugged each other, weeping tears of pure joy.

High above them, the snow floating in the air coalesced, forming a single gigantic snowflake, intricately patterned, which then slowly rose higher and higher, rising up along with the tendrils of the aurora, until it vanished into the black velvet sky of night. The glowing streams of the aurora shifted and flickered, shining brightly as the mistake made so long ago was corrected, and the sisters were finally reunited.

* * *

"It is done," the ancient Sami shaman said, nodding wisely. "Balance has been restored."

Elsa and Anna slowly separated from their hug, looking bashfully at each other through their tears. There was a long silence, then Anna finally spoke.

"I… I'm so sorry, Elsa. I've been… I've been completely beastly to you. I'm really sorry."

"Oh God no, Anna!" Elsa gasped. "It wasn't you! It was me! It was my curse—it was all my fear, all my negativity affecting you! It was… it was me being beastly to me!"

Anna giggled. "That sounds silly." She took a step back, still holding Elsa's hands, and looked at her, a strange smile on her face. "So…. You're my… sister? That's… uh, going to take some getting used to."

"Not for me!" Elsa declared. "It just means we won't ever have to be apart again."

"I'd like that," Anna said shyly.

"It also means you're my child," the queen said gently, moving towards her daughters.

Anna looked up at the queen awkwardly, her face pink. "It's… it's going to be hard, thinking of the queen… thinking of you as my mother."

"I'm sure it will take some time, and we don't want to pressure you," the queen said. "But just know that I—that your father and I both love you. You may not remember us, but we can remember you now. Remember the day you were born, when I was holding you in my hands, so tiny, so perfect…."

Anna went even pinker. Then she looked up at her new-found mother, and smiled. "I always wanted a mother," she said. "I never really knew mine—all I had was my grandmother. I mean…."

"You can call her your grandmother, if you like," the queen said gently. "She was your grandmother, in every way that counts..."

"Oh, Olaf…." Anna gasped. She turned her eyes on her sister, blinking back sudden tears. "Does this mean... does this mean that Olaf was never my brother?"

Elsa gave Anna a warm hug. "Of course it doesn't, silly. We wouldn't dream of trying to take away your old family from you. He's your brother if you see him that way. Which makes him my brother as well. The noble Prince Olaf. I… I wish I'd met him."

"You'd have liked him, I think," Anna said. "He was always very quiet, and liked thinking and reading. At least whenever we found an old book he could practice with."

"I might have, at that," Elsa smiled. "And I know I would have loved your grandmother as well. She would be so happy to see you now."

"She would, wouldn't she?" Anna said softly, wiping away tears. "So very happy. As happy as I am."

"But not as happy as I am!" Elsa cried.

"And neither of you are as happy as I," the queen added, tears streaming down her face, unchecked. "To have my child back…. To have my family back. No greater joy can exist."

Elsa reached out to her mother, taking her hands. "I just wanted to say… that I'm sorry for being so angry. When you told me what you did to me, why I am… the Ice Princess. I didn't realise how important families really were—until I nearly lost my sister."

"Oh, Elsa, my love…" the queen whispered.

"Wait, Elsa! Where are your gloves?" the king asked. "Idun, are your hands all right?"

The queen blinked, and smiled. "Agdar, her hands… they're… they're warm! I can touch her! I can touch my child!"

The king held out his own hand, and Elsa held it as well, smiling up at him.

"They're cool, but… not freezing," he gasped, looking at his child. "Elsa, what happened?"

"I… I don't know," she admitted. "I think… I think it was finding Anna—my sister—again. I think… I think I can control my curse now."

The old noaidi nodded. "As long as you have love in your heart. Remember, Elsa, fear is your enemy. Fear can control your powers, turn them against you. But love…. Ah, love triumphs over fear every time, as surely as even the tiniest flickering match triumphs over the blackest darkness."

Elsa took out her gloves, the hated symbols of her curse, of how she was different, and looked at them with a growing hope. "Does that mean… I won't have to wear these ever again?"

"Not if you don't want to, honey," the queen said, smiling.

Gazing at the gloves, Elsa fingered them one last time, feeling the familiar smooth silk, then tossed them high into the air. A quick gesture sent them tumbling away in a flurry of snow, vanishing into the dark forests of the night. Then the Ice Princess turned and grasped her sister's hands, smiling.

"Anna, just promise me that you'll always be that bright glow in my darkness…."

Her sister reached up and wiped away a stray tear from Elsa's pale cheek. "Always. Isn't that's what sisters are for?"

* * *

"Hey, sis, isn't that Anna?"

Hilde glanced up at her brother's question. "Where?"

"Over there, coming down the path."

"Oh, with the princess, and Their Majesties." She looked back at Hans. "Do you think… do you think that the magic worked? Do you think she's better now?"

"I'm sure she's back to the same old Anna," Hans said. "She's such a sweet girl."

"You didn't always think that," Hilde noted with a wry smile.

"Well, I do now. And I wish I'd been able to then. And doubly so for you, little sis," he added, giving Hilde a quick hug. Then he let go, his face pink. "Anyway, you should go and see. She's your friend, too."

"Oh, I hope she still is," Hilde said, suddenly feeling nervous.

She got up from the bench outside the raised storehouse and moved closer to Anna, who was still talking with the princess, her eyes shining. Then the young redhead caught sight of Hilde and rushed over, throwing her arms around the older girl.

"Oh, Hilde! Elsa told me everything—how you figured out what was wrong with me! You're so clever!"

"Er, well, you know, I had to do something," Hilde said, not sure how to respond to the sudden emotional display. "I mean, you were being such a… such a…"

"Mean girl?" Anna asked with a smile. "Go ahead, you can say it!"

"Yes, well, that's not _quite_ the term I'd have chosen," Hilde continued, trying and utterly failing to suppress a wide grin. "I'm just glad everything's finally back to normal now, back the way it was."

To her surprise, Hilde could see Anna suddenly looking rather bashful.

"Uh, well, not everything's _quite_ back the way it was…."

"What do you mean? You are back to normal, right?"

"Well, yes… and no."

"Anna, really, do make sense, please!"

"Ah, Hilde, thanks ever so much," the princess said, coming up to them.

The maid quickly dipped in a curtsey. "It was my pleasure, Your Highness."

"Oh, Elsa, isn't it wonderful how Hilde got her brother back?" Anna cried, and Hilde's eyes opened wide.

"Anna!" she hissed in a stage whisper, "I told you, you can't call the princess that! And certainly not to her face!"

"Uh, well, actually, she can," Elsa admitted bashfully as Anna giggled. "You see, she's… er, she's…."

"She's my sister!" Anna suddenly cried, hugging Elsa's arm tightly and grinning at Hilde.

Hilde froze, stunned. It seemed as if her thoughts were like a collapsing pile of plates, cascading to the ground with a tremendous din, scattering fragments everywhere. She stared at Anna, her mouth opening and closing rather exactly like a goldfish, and her eyes round and wide as two great soup bowls.

"She's your—she's your… sis… sis… sister…?" she stammered, looking from one to the other.

"Yes, it's true," Elsa said, a lopsided grin playing about her features. "Hilde, let me introduce you to our former scullery maid, and your old roommate: my long-lost younger sister, Her Royal Highness the Princess Anna Louise Sonja von Oldenburg-Àrnadalr."

"The… the… the…" Hilde gasped, still trying to get her jaw and brain to work together again.

"Yes, it's quite the mouthful, isn't it?" Anna said happily. "I think I'm going to stick with just 'Anna'."

"Er, yes, of course," Hilde said, her body finally starting to work normally again. She stared at the two girls. "So… you're sisters? Anna's a princess? When did this happen?"

"When I was born, I guess," Anna joked. "I mean, not that I knew it at the time, of course." She looked up at her sister. "I still can't believe it…."

"Neither can I," Hilde said, shaking her head. "So… it's going to be really strange, calling you Your Highness from now on."

Anna shook her head. "You don't have to. I mean, I honestly can't see myself as a princess, or anything fancy like that. I'm still the same Anna, or at least the same Anna I was before the, uh, ice."

"Hm. I'm going to miss being able to boss you about," Hilde said with a cheeky grin.

Elsa laughed. "That's my role now, I think."

"Humph! If you think I'm going to just let you because you're my big sister, you've got another think coming!" Anna said, folding her arms and trying to fix Elsa with a steely glare that immediately collapsed into a giggle, which Elsa joined in.

Hilde shook her head. "Wow. You two really are sisters. You even giggle the same way."

Elsa and Anna glanced at each other, their faces pink.

"I suppose we are," Anna said, smiling. "It feels so strange."

"And so lucky," Hilde noted.

"But you're lucky too," Anna said. "You have your brother back. I guess this explains why you always stuck up for him."

"Well, most of the time," Hilde quipped. She sighed. "I'm so glad he's back—it was so hard knowing he was my brother, but not being able to tell him. I tried to, at first, but he kept thinking I was insane. The more I tried to love him as my brother, the worse he became. So I had to stop, at least outwardly. Inside, I always tried to be nice to him, even when he was so nasty to me. I kept hoping that one day he would remember who I was. I kept that hope alive for years, but… eventually, I had to drop it."

"What did you drop, little sister?" Hans asked, wandering over to them. He ruffled Hilde's hair gently, and smiled. "Nothing expensive, I hope?"

Hilde laughed. "Don't be silly!" She eyed Anna. "Did you hear about… the new princess?"

Hans nodded. "Kristoff told me. Amazing."

"Your sister played a key role, Hans," Elsa told him. "She gave me the vital clue I needed. For which we are all grateful." She glanced over Hilde's shoulder, and smiled. "Oh, my—I mean, our—parents would like to thank you as well."

"Parents…?" Hilde gasped as the king and queen came over to them, both smiling radiantly. "Your Majesties!" she quickly added, curtseying as low as she could.

"Rise, Hilde," the queen said gently. "My daughter—er, my eldest daughter, that is—tells me that you were the one who solved the mystery of Anna's, uh, illness, leading to us being reunited with our long-lost child. For that, you have our unending thanks and love."

"Er, well, I didn't do that much, really, Your Highness," Hilde said, her heart hammering in her chest.

"And in recognition of your role," the king added, "we would like to bestow a small gift on you. Now, I believe Princess Elsa promised you she would make you a chambermaid. I think, however, that we can do a little better than that. Kneel."

Surprised, and wondering what on earth was going on, Hilde kneeled down on the bare ground, keeping her eyes down.

"Elsa, dear, could I trouble you?" she heard the king ask, and Hilde saw a sudden bright glow reflect on the ground, then quickly fade. "Oh, that is cold," the king added after a moment. "I'm glad I brought gloves."

Hilde risked a brief, quick glance up, and saw the king gingerly holding an elegant sword of ice. She swallowed hard. Was she… was she going to be executed? Surely not?

Trembling uncontrollably, trying not to weep from nervousness, she felt the light, cool tap of the ice sword on one shoulder, then the other.

"Arise, Hilde, Lady Andersdatter, Dame Grand Cross of the Most Noble Order of the Golden Crocus."

Hilde gasped, unsure what had just happened. She swayed in shock, and was only saved from falling over by Hans quickly grabbing her arm.

"Up you get, Dame!" he cried, laughing.

"D—dame…?" Hilde stammered. She looked around at her brother, at the royal family, her heart racing, unable to believe what had just happened. Was this a dream—was she just going to wake up and nothing would be different? "A lady? M—me? Really?"

"You are," Elsa said, smiling. "No more chopping vegetables for you!"

"Indeed not," the king said. "How would you like to serve as Princess Anna's lady-in-waiting? That is, assuming my daughter agrees."

"Of course, Your Hi—er, Father," Anna said. "What about it, Hilde?"

"Er, your lady-in-waiting? I…, er…." Hilde took a deep breath, and tried to remain calm. "It would be an honour," she said. She curtseyed again, as deeply as she could without losing her balance. "Thank you ever so very much, Your Royal Majesty," she murmured.

"Wow, that's amazing!" Anna said with a huge grin after the king and queen had moved off. "Lady Andersdatter, eh? Now who's putting on airs and graces?"

Hilde giggled, then looked at Anna..

"Come on sis," Hans said, touching Hilde on her shoulder. "Kristoff asked me to fetch you to help with tonight's feast. We all have to pitch in here. Even dame grand crosses."

"You mean dames grand cross," Hilde said, smiling at her brother. "Er, by your leave," she added to Elsa and Anna, then headed off.

Elsa watched the newly reunited brother and sister walk towards the large main hut, and sighed happily. They seemed so happy, so content. As if they had been friends all their lives.

"You know, Anna," she began, "us being sisters like this, it explains a few things."

"About?"

Elsa went a little pink. "Well, I mean, it was like… from the first time I saw you, I could tell there was something about you…. I wanted to get to know you better. I wanted to be your friend, but I didn't really know why. I was a princess, and you were a maid… and yet I felt so drawn to you, like we had some sort of connection. I mean, I would always have rescued you of course, but the longer I knew you, the more I… the more I wanted to be with you, to have you around me."

"Same here," Anna admittedly shyly. "I mean, in my case, I always thought you were amazing, right from the start. You were the perfect girl I always wanted to be. Beautiful, intelligent, elegant, sophisticated. Of course I wanted to spend time with you—who wouldn't? But… well, you were the princess, remote and aloof. And I was just the maid…. Still, I always loved it when you would be awake in the mornings and talk with me. I mean, it scared me, it made me nervous I would say the wrong thing and get dismissed, but… I still always hoped you would."

"Well, you don't need to worry about getting dismissed," Elsa said, laughing. "Being my sister is a job for life! Now come on, let me show you what you're in for!"

"Oh! The magic?" Anna gasped. "Do the magic!"

Elsa smirked, then waved her hands, creating a snowball floating in the air. Anna grinned, and quickly grabbed it, then danced out of her sister's reach. She dodged another snowball Elsa had quickly conjured up, then threw her own, which splattered on the older girl's head.

"Ooh, sneaky!" Elsa called. "Just watch this!"

Anna laughed as Elsa held her hands above her head, creating a snowball two feet across.

"Oooh, you wouldn't dare!" Anna cried, eyeing it warily.

"Catch!" Elsa called, lobbying it softly towards Anna, who jumped aside and grabbed a large handful from the heap of snow as Elsa warily circled her, spinning three snowballs in the air in front of her.

"You'll never get me!" Anna shouted.

"Oh yes I will!" Elsa shouted back.

"Not a chance! There!"

"Missed me! My turn now!"

"Oh, that's cold! Just you wait!"

* * *

"No, no, King Agdar, I must insist," Aslak said, smiling. "It is far too late to travel to Lord Skarsgard's manor now. You must stay the night with us, and leave in the morning."

"Well, we really don't want to be an imposition," the queen, standing beside her husband, said.

"Nonsense, nonsense," said the big blond man. "It would be our honour. You are our distant kin, after all. And we shall have a feast to celebrate the return of your lovely child! There shall be music, chants, dances, and we shall make such merriment that the gods themselves shall wake from their slumber and look down on us, wishing they could join in!"

He laughed, a great belly laugh that carried around the entire village, then winked at the king. "And we shall drink as well! Drink until we cannot even stand to piss!"

Idun blanched. "I think I will leave you men to discuss this," she said primly. "By your leave."

The queen wandered away, back to where she could just stand under the trees and look over at her playing children. Her children…. Both of them…. She sighed, feeling like a great weight had been lifted from her, one she had borne so long she had no longer even been aware she was carrying it. She had her baby girl back at last. But… it was still hard to have missed out on so much of Anna's childhood, seeing her grow, knowing her love. So very hard….

Then she felt a strong pair of hands on her shoulders, and caught a familiar, comforting scent.

"Oh, Agdar," the queen sighed, gazing at her two daughters laughing and shouting with joy as they started making a snowman together. "Did you ever dream this day would come?"

"Dream it?" the king asked with a smile. "Oh yes, many times. But it was only a foolish dream. Until now. Until the love between our children brought them together, mending our sundered family."

"To see Elsa like that, so happy, so carefree…. To see both our daughters so happy and carefree. Oh, Agdar, my love. For the first time in many years, I know true happiness."

A gentle warm breeze whispered through the pines, stirring the flames briefly, and catching some stray snowflakes. The snow rose languorously into the air, circling in the currents, dancing in the sky like twinkling stars. High above it, the northern lights spread their glow over the great mountain, the sheltered valley by its side, and the two young girls playing together as sisters for the first time in forever.

.

* * *

**KNOWTES:**

Well, the climax is clearly taken from the original Hans Christian Andersen fairy tale, when Gerda's tears melt Kai's heart. I thought it would be nice to return to the original source, pay homage to it a bit. And it balances out the start, which is also taken from one of his fairy tales.

The purple memory stone is borrowed from the one used in Once Upon A Time's rather (okay, very) disappointing take on Frozen. Why disappointing? Loads of reasons. Two are that there was no deconstruction of the characters like there has been for the other ones, and the fact that at no stage was Elsa allowed to appear in anything but her iconic gown while in Storybrook. Just so you don't forget that Hey! It's Elsa!. Argh….

Sorry for all the obscure Sami gods and goddesses I've been tossing into the story. I want to give the story a link to the Sami traditions the film has drawn on, but never actually explicitly mentioned. As Wikipedia notes, Sarakka, one of the daughters of Maderakka, is the goddess of fertility, menstruation, love, human sexuality, pregnancy and childbirth. I've largely taken these names and roles as something vaguely appropriate, but probably not really. So don't try writing any graduate theses on Sami religion based on the information I've given you in this story….

Also sorry for not mentioning Kristoff much at all in this chapter—it is long enough as it is, and I don't want to break up the flow just to squeeze in a scene with him. Don't worry, he'll appear in the next chapter—this is (mainly) for the sisters….

If Anna's last name is "Sommersdatter" and her father's name is Adolf, then her mother's name would have to be Sommers, based on my understanding of pre-modern Norwegian naming conventions. However, I have changed her mother's surname from a matronymic one to a patronymic one, as two matronynics in a row is rather unusual indeed. And having rejected "Andersdatter" in favour of "Sommersdatter" for Anna, I shall give it to Hilde instead. Talking of names, "Louise" and "Sonja" are the names of actual Norwegian princesses. I chose those just to make sure that they would be names given to royalty in that region.

Knight or Dame Grand Cross is the highest knighthood you can get under the British system (assuming you are actually eligible for one, of course). I was going to make her an actual noble, but I thought that might be pushing things a bit much. Especially in such a small kingdom as Arendelle, where there probably aren't that many to start with. Talking of knighting, They don't actually say "Arise, Sir Didymus" (at least in Britain or the Commonwealth), but then again, this isn't Britain (or the Commonwealth). So I've gone with the standard view here. And of course the Most Noble Order of the Golden Crocus just reflects the royal symbol of Arendelle. And is a lot classier than a Garter or a Bath….

Historically, in Europe, a lady-in-waiting was often a noblewoman (although not necessarily so in Arendelle) from a family in 'good society,' but who was of lower rank than the woman on whom she attended. Although she may or may not have received compensation for the service she rendered, a lady-in-waiting was considered more of a companion than a servant to her mistress. (Thanks, Wikipedia) So Hilde is definitely no longer a servant.

To be honest, there aren't a lot of new facts in this chapter. So I shall see you all in the next chapter...

[**Posted** 28-2-15]

[**Edited** 11-3-15 to correct some minor mistakes and change a few phrases to make it flow better...]

[**Edited**: 23-4-15. Thanks to BatteriezNotIncluded for pointing out a place where I wrote "Anna" and not "Hilde." This sort of editorial comment is always welcome.]

[**Edited**: 27-4-15. Some final minor corrections and adjustments, like changing the name to Mathisdatter.]

[**Edited**: 26-3-16. How did I miss "the mother than you deserved" and "and the their majesties"? How can I read something more than a dozen times and still miss such silly editing errors?]


	23. A Princess Just Like Me

**23\. A Princess Just Like Me**

[**Last time on ****_Living Flower_**: Elsa's tears of true love have thawed her sister's frozen heart, allowing her to remember their friendship and love.]

* * *

The carriage clattered along the cobbled streets of the city, heading towards the castle. The queen looked over at her two daughters, sitting side by side across from her. They had been chatting to each other almost non-stop ever since they had woken up that morning, as if they had known each other their entire lives. It was wonderful to see, Idun thought to herself, watching them with a smile on her face. And how perfect that the two sisters were already firm friends. It made everything so much easier.

"We're coming to the main square now," she commented, glancing out the window. "You're nearly home, Anna darling."

Anna looked out of the carriage, seeing the elegant buildings of the rich fly past, catching glimpses of the well-to-do of Arendelle out and about, enjoying the warm summer evening. Yet to a man they all stopped and watched as the royal carriage rolled on by, many of them bowing or curtseying at the sight of the royal standard fluttering atop it. Anna thought back to the last time she was in a carriage like this, with all eyes turned on her. That time she had spotted her father in the crowd, and guilt had driven her to seek him out. With… consequences she didn't like to really dwell on. No, she told herself. She would not dwell on them, ever. That part of her life was over, for good. The past was in the past, and there it would stay. Anna Sommersdatter no longer existed. That girl was gone, like snow in summer. As dead as her father.

But… he wasn't her father, she thought, glancing shyly at the handsome man sitting diagonally opposite her. He had never been her father—had never been what a father should be. Even less than a day after she had learned that the king was her real father, she already knew she would love him. He was everything that her old father—no, that Black Adolf—had never been: kind, considerate, warm, friendly, and above all, she could not conceive of him ever abusing her the way Adolf had. The thought that she would never, ever be beaten again flooded her with a strange mixture of relief, joy, and sadness at the memories. She could feel tears starting, and quickly wiped her eyes.

She felt a gentle pressure on her hand, and looked over at her older sister, sitting beside her.

"Are you nervous?" Elsa asked.

"A little," Anna admitted. "Well, a lot. I mean, what's everyone going to say? What will they all think of me? The maid who became a princess?"

"They'll love you as much as I do," Elsa told her, giving her hand a quick squeeze. "Well, almost as much. Don't you worry."

Anna gave her a squeeze back, feeling the coolness of her sister's bare hand.

"Just so long as you're there with me," she said.

"Try and get rid of me," Elsa said with a warm smile.

"When we arrive, we'll let the staff know, of course," the king told them. "But I would like to make the official proclamation to the people on your birthday, Anna."

"My birthday!" Anna gasped. "You know when it is?"

"Of course we do, dear," the queen said. "That was the one thing we never forgot. You were born on the 22nd of June, 1827."

"June the 22nd?" Anna repeated, her eyes round. Then they grew even rounder. "But—but that's next week!" she gasped.

"Oh, so it is," the queen said, smiling.

"Does that mean… does that mean I get a birthday party?" Anna ventured.

"Of course. Why wouldn't it?"

"Well, because... Uh, because…. I never had a party before."

"What? Never?" the queen gasped. "Whyever not?"

"We… we were too poor," Anna whispered.

"Oh my darling child," the queen cried. "Oh, you poor thing! Of course you will have a party! The grandest ever! The entire kingdom will help you celebrate!"

Anna suddenly found herself weeping, tears flooding down her cheeks.

"Oh, dearest, don't weep! What's the matter?"

"I… I'm so happy," Anna got out. "And so sad at the same time. Full of joy, and fear as well. Everything's happened so fast, I don't know who I am half the time. Everything's different. I'm so confused."

Elsa gave her sister a quick hug. "I might be your sister now, but I'm still your friend," she said. "That's one thing that hasn't changed—that won't change. You hang onto that, okay?"

"I will," Anna agreed, smiling at her friend, her sister. "I'm still… still a bit nervous, mind."

"Don't worry—I'll be with you."

"As will we, dearest Anna," the queen said, smiling. "We're your family, after all."

Anna managed a nervous smile back, then looked out of the window as the carriages rattled across the causeway and through the open gates, drawing up in front of the main door. Once they had stopped, she moved to get out, but the king held up his hand.

"Wait until the door's opened, darling. A princess never opens her own door."

"Oh, sorry Your, er, Father," Anna said, looking nervous. "I… I won't do it again."

"Goodness, I'm not angry, Anna," the king said. "You don't have to look at me like that. Like… well, like I'm the king. Because whatever else I am, I'm your father first and foremost. Even if you don't remember me."

"You should call him Pappa," the queen suggested. "And, if you like, you could call me Mamma."

"I'd like that… Mamma. And Pappa."

"Here come Their Majesties, back from the North Mountain!" Kaisson barked. "Look sharp, all of you!"

* * *

The assembled senior servants drew themselves to attention and remained rigid as the two carriages swept around the forecourt, coming to a gentle halt outside the front door. Jensen quickly hopped down from his driver's box and folded down the carriage steps, then, at a signal from Kaisson, opened the door. The servants all bowed or curtseyed low as the king stepped out of the carriage, followed by the queen.

"Good evening, Kaisson," the king said, nodding at him.

"I trust you had a pleasant journey, sire," the butler said, approaching his master.

"More than pleasant, Kaisson," the king said, beaming. "The most amazing thing has happened. It's a miracle!"

"A miracle, Majesty?" He glanced at Anna, raising an eyebrow at seeing the princess's arm around the maid's. "I trust young Anna is feeling better, sire. She was—she is a good worker, and I would be sorry to lose her."

"I'm afraid that can't be helped, Kaisson. You have lost her," the king said, his smile broadening. "But yes, Anna is feeling much better. Aren't you, dear?"

"Much, thank you, Your Majes—I mean, Pappa."

"Come on then! We've got a lot to do before your birthday!"

His jaw hanging open, the butler stood rooted to the spot in shock as Anna followed the royal family through the front doors of the castle.

"Mr Kaisson? Good heavens, you look like you've just seen a ghost."

"Oh, ah, Mrs Gerdason—did… did Anna just call the king her… _father_?"

"Oh, surely not. You're just over-worked, I'm sure. Imagining things. Once we've got things settled I'll make you a nice strong cup of tea. In the meantime we have work to do."

"Pardon me Mr Kaisson, sir," Hans said coming up to them. "Their Majesties have requested you meet them in the main hall after ringing the dinner gong."

"Oh? Certainly," Kaisson said, raising an eyebrow. "Is this anything to do with what happened on North Mountain last night?"

"I am fairly sure it is, yes," Hans said, barely repressing a grin.

"Oh, very well," Kaisson said.

"We saw a massive aurora over towards the mountain last night," Gerdason said. "What exactly did happen up there?"

"Something wonderful," Hans said, smiling broadly, his arm around Hilde.

Gerdason gave the footman a sharp look. "You seem awfully chipper. Quite unlike your normal self. I like it. Stay that way."

Hans laughed. "This is my normal self, my dear Mrs Gerdason. That other Hans, that was the wrong one. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to talk with my sister."

"Your… sister?" Gerdason asked.

"Me!" Hilde called back as she and her brother headed off.

"They were siblings? Well, well," Gerdason said, shaking her head. "I never knew."

"Something strange happened on the mountain last night," Kaisson said, looking up at the distant peaks that ringed the small kingdom. "Of that I am certain."

"Indeed. And I suspect there are more surprises in store for us…."

* * *

"Come on, Anna," Elsa called, heading through the hall and up the main stairs. "We have to get dressed for dinner."

Anna glanced back at her parents, who smiled reassuringly.

"When you're ready, join us in the Small Dining Room," the queen told her. "I'll ask Mrs Gerdason to send Erin up to help."

"Er, thank you, Ma'am—Mamma," Anna said, trying to control her thumping heart. Dinner? With the royal family? "Oh, gosh," she muttered to herself as she followed her sister up the stairs.

Elsa led the way to her room, where she rang the bell for the servants.

"Right, sis," she said, emphasizing the 'sis'. "First we need to get you looking respectable, and then inform Mr Kaisson and the other staff of your… your new position."

Anna giggled at that, making Elsa smile.

"Then there will probably be a formal reception and a banquet and a ball and a…. Oh, Anna, what is it?"

"Could we… could we hold off on all that, for a while?" the younger girl asked, her face stricken. "It's just that…. I mean, I suddenly find I have a family, a sister, that I'm a—a princess, and on top of it all, balls and banquets? Elsa, I couldn't! Honest! I really couldn't!"

Her sister smiled. "Don't worry, that won't be for a few days. Believe me, I know exactly how you feel. Well, maybe not exactly, as I'm more used to them, but I never liked them either. Always afraid my control would slip, my magic be unleashed, and I would be exposed as a witch. But not any more. Don't panic—I'll talk to Pappa, make sure he doesn't rush you. After all, you've got a lot of catching up to do…."

Anna sighed, blinking away a few stray tears. "I… really liked it when you said 'Pappa' just now," she admitted. "It makes me feel like… like I have a real father, a real family."

"Of course you do, silly!" Elsa said, giving her sister a quick hug.

"I know, I know. It's just going to take a while for it to sink in." Anna sighed. "Last night, I dreamed all this was a dream—I dreamed that I was going to wake up in my old bed in the attic, and nothing would have changed." She looked around Elsa's familiar bedroom, smiling slightly. "And then I woke up, and you were beside me in bed in the Sami lodge, and… our parents were in the next room, and I just about cried because everything was so perfect, I was so happy, and so that made me wonder if I was still dreaming."

"So that's why you woke me?" Elsa asked. "You pretended it was an accident."

"Sorry," Anna replied, her cheeks turning pink. "I… I was a bit ashamed to admit the real reason. I just wanted to make sure you were real."

"Large as life and twice as natural," Elsa joked. "Come on, we better get you dressed! If you're going to be a princess just like me, you're going to have to look like one! Aslaug! Erin!" she called, summoning the two maids. "We have work to do! It's time for a princess makeover!"

* * *

An hour later, bathed and scrubbed and pampered more than she had ever been in her young life, Anna found herself standing at the top of the main stairs, wearing the green gown she had worn the day they escorted the duke around. Elsa had assured her that one of their first priorities would be to arrange a full wardrobe to rival her own, but for now Anna was content to wear her sister's hand-me-downs. It was still the most gorgeous dress she'd ever worn in her life, after all.

A low note sounded throughout the hall. Anna had heard the gong rung every night for dinner, but now… now it was ringing for her dinner. Her first proper meal with her family, just the four of them. It felt so strange, so dreamlike. But Elsa—her sister—was standing right there, and she was real, she wasn't a dream. Everything was real. Her happy ending had really arrived. Anna let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding, and looked over at her sister.

"Come on!" Elsa called, holding out her hand. Anna took it, feeling the cool smooth skin, and the two princesses walked down the stairs together, hand in hand. As they drew near the bottom, she saw the king and queen waiting at the bottom of the stairs, talking to Kaisson. They turned as the girls approached, and smiled.

"You look wonderful, my darling Anna," the king said.

"Oh, you really do clean up beautifully, my precious child," the queen added.

"Er, thank you, Your—Pappa, Mamma," Anna said, going even pinker than before. She looked over at Kaisson, whose expression looked as if he had just been forced to eat an entire jar of lutefisk.

"I just told him the good news," the king said, a slight smirk on his face. "He's almost as pleased as we are. Aren't you, Kaisson?"

"Ecstatic, sire," the butler replied, his right eyebrow flickering ever so slightly. "To think the scullery maid was really the princess all this time. I am forced to wonder which other members of my staff are secretly royalty…."

"Er, Mr Kaisson, sir, I'm…. That is, I would like to thank you for all your kindness and consideration," Anna said, curtseying.

"Uh, er, ah, no, not at all, Anna—Princess Anna. Er, Your Highness," the butler stammered. He looked at Anna again, then looked quickly away. "With your permission, sire, I shall inform Mrs Gerdason and the other servants."

"Oh, no, wait, don't, please!" Anna called. He stopped, and looked at her. "That is to say, Mr Kaisson, I would like to tell her myself first. I owe her that, I think."

"I shall summon her, then, er, Highness," the butler said.

"No, no, I'll go down," Anna said. She flashed him a quick smile. "It's not as if I don't know the way, after all."

"Your wish is my command, Highness," Kaisson said.

"Don't be too long, dear," the queen said. "The gong has already been rung, and we don't want to keep Escoffier waiting."

"I'll be right up… Mamma." Anna said with a smile, then headed towards the door to the service levels.

Kaisson watched her go, then looked at the king, the tiniest of smiles twitching up the corner of his mouth. "This is indeed a most felicitous occasion, sire. I do hope young An—the young princess will not have too many problems adjusting to her new life. To go from a beggar girl to a princess in just half a year is…."

"Is a fairy tale come true, Kaisson," the king said with a warm smile, his arm around his eldest daughter.

"You refer to Cinderella, sire?"

The king laughed. "In this case, Cinder-Anna, I would say."

"No," Elsa said. "The Ugly Duckling."

"Ugly? Whatever do you mean, dear?" the queen asked.

Elsa smiled. "Now Anna can finally be the beautiful swan she always was."

* * *

Anna trotted along the passageways under the castle. They were so familiar, yet they already seemed slightly strange, as if she no longer belonged here, as if this were no longer truly her world. Yet nothing had changed around her: everything was exactly the same—everything except her. It was a strange feeling, and only exacerbated by the unfamiliar dress she was wearing.

Arriving at the housekeeper's office, she did her best to push her worries aside, and knocked gently.

"Mrs Gerdason? It's Anna. Might I speak with you?" she called.

"Of course, come in," the housekeeper's voice sounded.

Anna eased the door open and slipped in, standing nervously near the desk.

"My, Anna, whatever are you wearing?" Gerdason asked, raising her eyebrows. "Goodness, you look like a little princess!"

"Ah, yes, well, it's about that I wanted to talk with you about, uh, that, er, that is…." Anna took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then fastened her large blue-green eyes on the housekeeper and smiled shyly. "I just wanted to come and thank you for everything you've done for me," she said. "From the very first day I arrived, and you gave me the first real warm bath I think I might ever have had, and fed me as much as I could eat. And then you let me stay on as a maid, and didn't get _terribly_ upset when I made mistakes, and… and you were always so good to me… even when I honestly didn't deserve it and… and…."

To Gerdason's astonishment, Anna suddenly burst into tears.

"There, there, child," the old housekeeper said, reaching out and hugging the girl. "Whatever is the matter?"

"I… I was just thinking of how poor I was, how unhappy, and how you showed me such kindness, like I 'most never did get from strangers afore. I… I promise I won't ever forget it."

"Calm yourself, little one," Gerdason said, stroking Anna's long red-blonde hair. "You've been a delight to have around, and I'm so glad that wee attitude problem you had has been fixed, and you're all better now." She paused, and stepped back, looking Anna up and down. "But I'm not really sure you're ready to become the princess's lady's maid full-time, you know."

"Oh, but I'm not," Anna said, wiping her eyes with a silk handkerchief. "Not going to be her, uh, maid, that is."

"Then why the dress? Hasn't Princess Elsa requested you wear this? Perhaps for another excursion?"

"I… well, no. It's my dress now."

"Her Highness gave you this dress? Well, I suppose that is her right. But aren't you concerned about the other maids, what they'll think when they see you wearing it? That you're trying to put on airs and graces, acting superior to your position?"

"Sort of," Anna admitted. "Only… you see... the thing is… I'm not. Not really."

"Not putting on airs?" Gerdason asked, a benevolent smile on her face.

Anna shook her head. "Not acting superior to my… new position."

Gerdason raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean? What new position?"

"Well, you see…." Anna flushed, and swallowed hard. "Well, you see, the thing is, I'm… I'm not going to be a maid any more."

Gerdason gasped. "You're leaving us? But why, Anna? I thought you liked it here? Isn't it better than what you had… before?"

"Oh yes ma'am, much, and yes, I love it here, you've all been so terribly kind—well, most of you—and I thought I would never want to leave. But… you see…. I'm not really Anna. Not the real Anna. Or rather, that wasn't the real Anna. I mean, I am Anna, the real Anna, but not the real Anna I thought I really was."

"Do make sense, girl," Gerdason said sternly. "What do you mean, you're not the real Anna? Aren't you Anna Sommersdatter?"

"Well, I thought I was," Anna said slowly. Then she went even pinker, if that were possible. "But it seems Anna Sommersdatter never really existed. I'm…. my real name is… Anna Louise Sonja… von Oldenburg-Àrnadalr."

For a moment, there was no reaction. Then the housekeeper gasped. "Anna! What's got into you? I thought you were acting better, and now this? That's the name of the poor dead baby princess! You shouldn't joke about that sort of thing! Ever! D'ye hear?"

"I'm… I'm not joking, ma'am," Anna said, fresh tears forming in her eyes at the vehemence of the housekeeper's outburst.

There was a sudden brief knock at the door, which then swung open as the butler entered.

"Mrs Gerdason, I wanted to go over the arrangements for the ball—Highness! Forgive me. I did not realize you were still in here."

He gave a quick bow, and Anna's face went bright pink again.

"Uh, that's all right, Mr Kaisson, sir," she said nervously.

"Just 'Kaisson' is sufficient, Highness," he purred. "You do not need to call me 'sir' ever again."

"Er, Mr Kaisson," Gerdason asked, feeling very confused. "Whatever is going on? This isn't Princess Elsa, it's just Anna in one of the princess's old gowns."

"Ah, that's _Princess_ Anna, please Mrs Gerdason," Kaisson said, his face flushed.

"Princess Anna!" the housekeeper gasped. "What on earth do you mean?"

"This…. As incredible as it seems, this is Princess Anna, who was taken away by, er, trolls or something the night she was born, and raised as a beggar girl." Kaisson glanced at the young princess, then looked back at Gerdason. "Our memories, it seems, were faked by the pagan gods. There is… there is no mistake. I heard it from His Majesty's own lips. This really is Princess Anna, whom we all thought had died at birth. Praise be to the Lord for this miracle of miracles."

"A miracle indeed!" Gerdason gasped. "Oh, I remember how distraught Their Majesties were when their second child died just hours old. To think she was alive all this time! Oh, Anna! How wonderful! I'm sorry, I meant Princess Anna," she quickly added, curtseying low. "Oh, where are my manners! Please, forgive me for all my rudeness!"

Anna flung her arms around the old housekeeper's neck. "Of course I do, dear Mrs Gerdason! Oh, of course I do! Please, I'm just the same old Anna, only… only…."

"Only different," came Elsa's voice as the blonde princess entered the room. "There you are, Anna. Mamma and Pappa are waiting in the Small Dining Room."

"Your Highness," murmured both Kaisson and Gerdason, lowering their heads.

"Tell… Mamma and Pappa I'll be up right away," Anna said. "I just wanted to… to thank Mrs Gerdason for all her kindness to a poor stray picked up from the streets." Anna suddenly gave the housekeeper another hug. "You've been so good to me, really," she said, tears running down her cheeks.

"Er, Your Highness, please don't weep," Gerdason added, holding her arms stiffly out to her side. Then she gave a small sigh and smiled, bringing her arms in and hugging the little crying girl. "Maybe you are a princess now. But I couldn't be happier if you were my own wee lass."

Anna sniffed. "I… I came so close to dying, that night out in the snow. And back then, I think… I think I almost wanted to. I dreamed I could see my grandmother, and she was waiting for me, in Heaven. I wanted to join her so much…." Anna turned her teary eyes on the old woman. "And sometimes… this is foolish, but sometimes I liked to think of you almost as a grandmother—like my grandmother's spirit had come back down to earth. Like, just after I lost one grandmamma, I got another…. I'm sorry, that's a silly thing to say."

"Oh, Anna, dear, I think that's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me," the housekeeper said, stroking the young girl's soft, clean hair. "I'd never presume to be grandmother to a princess, but any time Miss Sommersdatter needs a grandmother, I'd be honoured to try and fill her shoes."

* * *

Dinner was finally over, and the royal family had retired to the drawing room, where the king was relaxing with a glass of port while the queen worked on some needlepoint. Anna glanced over at her sister, who was reading a book, and bit her lip.

"I'm… er, is dinner going to be like this every night?" she asked.

Elsa looked up and nodded. "Yes. Why do you ask? Didn't you like it?"

"No, no, it was amazing!" Anna exclaimed. "The best food I've ever had! I couldn't believe it! Everything was so yummy!"

"Glad you liked it, dear," the queen said. "You'll be eating like that every day from now on."

Anna hesitated, remembering nights spent with her stomach so empty it couldn't even growl. "I… I'm so lucky," she whispered, blinking back tears.

Elsa reached over and grasped her hand. "No, I am. We are. We have you back with us. You'll never need to worry about going hungry again."

"But… I'm such a mess," Anna said. "I didn't know there were so many different forks and knives and spoons and bowls. I tried to drink from the finger bowl…."

"No one laughed, Anna," Elsa told her, her voice serious. "No one will ever laugh at you. Not any more."

"But how can I be a princess, when I don't even know how to eat dinner?" Anna asked, despair on her face. "I don't know anything! I've been a beggar almost all my life—how could I? I'll never be able to be the perfect girl you want me to be!"

"Oh, Anna, no, don't ever think like that!" The queen quickly put down her needlepoint and rushed to comfort her child. "Please! You _are_ the perfect girl! You're _our_ girl, and we love you. We know you… that you had a difficult childhood. You'll learn fast, and soon no one would ever imagine you didn't grow up in a palace."

"And you've done so well already," Elsa added. "I mean it."

"Clearly, blood will out," the king said, nodding sagely and allowing Kaisson to pour him another glass. "I really am quite impressed with how, er, how well you can act. I mean, that is, after, well, considering where you grew up…"

Anna looked at her older sister, and grinned. "Er, not quite, Your—Father. Pappa," she said. "The thing is, Elsa had been teaching me how to act for months."

"Teaching you? How could she possibly know—?" the queen gasped.

"It wasn't that, Mamma," Elsa said. "You remember when I told you I wanted Anna as my maid, and you said she was too young, too untrained? So I decided to train her myself. In secret."

"Good heavens!" the queen gasped. She looked from one of her daughters to the other. "You… trained her to become a lady?"

"Well, a lady's maid, actually," Anna said. "I mean, we had no idea that… that this would happen."

Elsa nodded. "I covered all the basics—serving tea, grooming, dressing, a lady's toilet, and all that sort of thing. Not meals. Sorry, Anna."

"Well..." the queen said, quite taken aback. "For once I am glad you disobeyed me. For once," she quickly added, giving Elsa a small smile.

"I'll try not to make a habit of it," Elsa replied. "Unless I have to," she added with a smirk.

"Hm. That's as may be," the queen said. Then she turned to her younger daughter, and stroked her hair. "Right. It's getting late, and I know both of you were up very late last night, talking. I heard you. So first of all, Anna, we need to prepare a bedroom for you. I shall get Erin to make up the spare bedroom and turn it into yours."

"The spare bedroom?" Elsa asked. She looked at her sister, then back at her mother. "I thought…. Could we share a bedroom?"

The queen smiled. "Well, of course, if that's what you wish. Shall I have Anna's bed brought into your room?"

"Actually, it might be better if we both sleep in the other room," Elsa said. "There isn't anywhere to put a bed in my room, what with all my books and so on. We can have the other room as our bedroom and my old room can be our study and playroom."

"Excellent idea," the queen said. "What do you think, Anna? Do you mind sharing a room with your sister?"

"Sharing a room with her? Of course not! She's my sister!" Anna exclaimed. "Sisters share everything, right?"

"Right," Elsa told her, laughing.

* * *

"I'm, well, kind of glad you're so happy to share a bedroom," Elsa commented a few hours later, when their beds had been arranged and made up. The two girls were lying together on Elsa's bed, gazing up at the ceiling, like they had done many times before.

"Well, of course!" Anna exclaimed. "Why wouldn't I?"

"With the Ice Princess? There's many who wouldn't," Elsa told her.

"You know, I never understood that," Anna admitted.

"Understood what?"

"Why they called you that."

"Ice Princess? Perhaps because I can do this?" Elsa commented dryly, flicking her fingers and creating a tiny flurry of snow.

"No, it wasn't just the magic," Anna said, grinning with pleasure as Elsa moved her fingers, creating a delicate ice sculpture of a tiara, hanging in the air. "The other maids, the servants—they all said you were distant… cold and unlikeable. Which I never saw, not really."

"That's because you're so warm and likeable," Elsa said with a smile, placing the ice diadem on her sister's head. Then she sighed. "But they were right, you know. Before I met you, I didn't want anything to do with other people. You were the first servant in the castle who didn't know about my curse, my powers, and the first who wasn't afraid of me; didn't secretly—or not so secretly—think I was a witch." She stopped and sighed. "When people fear you, they dislike you, even if you're a princess. And when people dislike you, you dislike them back, for protection, walling off your heart to keep it from being hurt even more." Elsa gave a short, bitter laugh. "Or at least I do. You, my darling sister, would probably just love them even more."

"Nuh-uh," Anna said, shaking her head. "Not me. There's lots of maids I never got on with. Well, some. Two or three. A couple."

Elsa laughed. "But most of them loved you—or at least liked you, because you were so cheerful. Not me. I shut everyone out. Even my own parents. I trained myself to not feel anything, because emotions were so dangerous for me, for everyone around me. I was the Ice Princess, truly. Then you came to change my fate. My little lost kitten, so innocent, so pure."

"You know, I'm really not that innocent or pure," Anna told her. She fiddled with her silk nightgown, feeling the smooth material between her fingers. "In fact, in a way, I think I'm a lot less pure than you. You grew up in this fancy castle, with everyone being cultured and polite, but I had to grow up in—well, you saw where I lived. I've seen things you wouldn't believe. Anger, violence, poverty, suffering. Death." She sighed, and took the tiara off before it melted too much, placing it carefully on the bedside table. "So when I got here, I wanted to leave all of that behind me. This was such a different world: one where people never shouted or got drunk or beat you." Anna rolled over and looked at her sister. "Oh, Elsa, of course it was easy to love here. I'd had so little love in my old life."

She felt a cool hand steal into hers and give it a gentle squeeze.

"Maybe now we can both be ourselves," Elsa said in a soft voice. "Be the girls we were always meant to be."

.

* * *

**KNOWTES**

Sorry about the long delay. This was a surprisingly hard couple of chapters to write. I don't know why. Normally, I sometimes find it hard to include enough to get from A to B, but this time, I found it hard to cut things out. Each time I started writing a scene it would want to go to all sorts of places, spiralling out of control. There are so many points I want to touch on, feel I need to touch on, but don't want to end up writing half a dozen more chapters and dragging the story out, changing what the story is at its heart: two sisters discovering each other, saving each other, through the power of friendship. Even so, I have split the final main chapter into two, as it was topping 11,000 words, and I don't want to do that without a very good reason. There's a distinct thematic difference between this and the next one, so it can be split. The good news is that the next chapter is basically done as well, so won't be more than a few days, I hope. Perhaps if I were a better writer, I could make the same points, cover the same emotional beats, with much less waffle: to paraphrase Blaise Pascal, I have made this section longer, because I didn't have the skill to make it shorter….

I really should just give up trying to name chapters before I write them. The original chapter name was always designed to be the name of the last chapter, just as it is the last part of the poem quote I open the story with, so I had to think of something else for this. And I think the epilogue will actually be more of a last chapter than an epilogue; rather than a simple summary of what has happened, I would like to have something (minor) happen. But nothing bad. All good things, all good things, as Olaf might say. Anyway, the title of this one is taken from one of the deleted songs, _We Know Better_. Because I couldn't think of anything better….

I forgot to mention it last time, but there is a very good scientific reason why Anna's hair would go white: freeze branding is a technique used for branding cattle through extreme cold. The branding iron, chilled by liquid nitrogen, is used to alter the hair follicles of an animal to remove the pigmentation, and hair in the branded area will grow back white. This is pretty much precisely what happens with Anna in the movie, only there it's much, much faster. I've slowed it down here, and am going to give that white strand to her for keeps, as I happen to think it looks pretty cool. It also suggests that Elsa's ice can get far, far colder than plain old water ice….

The Ugly Duckling was first published in 1843, so I'm fudging the dates slightly, but wanted to reference one more HCA story. Both stories have a resonance for Anna, I feel, although I wasn't consciously drawing on either of them. _The Snow Queen_, while it was technically published in 1844, was only published on the 21st of December, and the collection it came in uses the year "1845." So I have always used that as the year _Frozen_ takes place. For Anna to be 18 in July 1845, when _Frozen_ takes place, she would have to have been born in 1827 if we go by the semi-canon birth date of June 22nd (summer solstice for 1827), making her 18 years and 1 month as of _Frozen_. Similarly, Elsa, who is 21, would have to have been born in 1823, if we go by her winter solstice birth date of December 22nd. These birth dates conflict with information presented in the film (which takes priority over everything: look up "Endor Holocaust" for more details on how that works), but not with any presented in this story, so for convenience's sake, I'm using the semi-canon birth dates.

I feel I should add that having Anna and Elsa share a bed the first night is definitely not any indications of latent Elsanna. Sharing a bed was much more common in the old days—if you've read Moby Dick (and if you have, you have my sympathies: it's definitely a struggle at times) you might recall that Ishmael shared a bed with Queequag that first night in the inn. That was SOP for the Good Old Days. Beds were very expensive—in fact a bed was pretty much the single most expensive bit of furniture a family would have. By the 19th century of course the middle and upper classes had their own beds, but the Sami lodges (tents, really) are not large at all (or remotely luxurious), so they're a bit squashed in. Talking of beds, to be honest, the only reason I have them both moving into the spare room is so that they can both sleep in what, in the movie, was their original shared bedroom (as we see Elsa moving out, to the bedroom she has here).

"Large as life and twice as natural" is a quote from _Alice Through the Looking Glass_. Alice turns 150 years old this year: Alice in Wonderland was published waaaay back in 1865. About thirty years after this story is set, mind. So Elsa certainly hasn't read it.

There aren't really that many facts to note in this chapter. So I shall see you in the next chapter, which will be up in what should be just a few days, as it's very nearly complete (the advantages of splitting a very long one—also means I can get the first half up faster…).

[**Published**: 21 March 2015 (GMT)]

[**Edited**: 27-4-15. Minor editing adjustments, just changing a word or two.]

[**Edited**: 5-5-15. Corrected dates as the summer (and winter) solstices for the years in question were the 22nd, not the 21st. Thanks to Mintellectual for bringing this to my attention. I still think the solstice idea is clichéd...]


	24. The Swirling Storm Inside

**24\. The Swirling Storm Inside**

[**Last time on ****_Living Flower_**: Anna's initial arrival at the castle, and meeting with Mrs Gerdason, followed by her first night in her new room, with Elsa.]

* * *

Anna opened her eyes, blinking in the sudden bright light. Morning already? Morning! She was late! She quickly jumped out of bed, then stood there, confused. This wasn't her small, cosy room in the attic. This was a large, grand chamber, very similar to the princess's room, only with pink walls.

"Good morning, Highness. I trust you slept well?"

Anna whirled at the sound of the voice, and saw a maid standing demurely by the window.

"Wait, what? Highness?" she asked, feeling confused. For a moment she thought she was dreaming, then her memories came flooding back. Overwhelmed, she sat down heavily on the bed, trying to process everything. Highness! Her? It was still quite impossible to wrap her brain around it.

"Are you all right, uh, Princess Anna?" the maid asked.

"Um, yes, yes, I'm fine, uh, Erin," Anna said, blushing. "Er, thank you for waking me."

"Mrs Gerdason has appointed me to be your new maid," Erin said in a quiet voice. "I hope I shall prove satisfactory."

"Um, yes, yes, of course," Anna said. She felt very embarrassed, as Erin, a chambermaid, had always been several ranks above her, and had barely deigned to give Anna the scullery maid the time of day. She had, however, never actually been rude, so Anna was spared that at least. "I… I hope you, uh, won't find it too difficult."

"I'm sure I shan't, Highness," Erin said, giving the young princess a slight smile.

"Morning, sleepy-head," Elsa called across, then giggled.

"What's so funny?"

"Your hair," Elsa informed her with a grin. She was already out of bed, wiping down her face, preparing to begin her morning toilet with Aslaug.

Anna picked up the small hand mirror on her bedside table and looked at her reflection, seeing her hair sticking out all over the place. She briefly pouted, before giggling herself. "Wow, that is messy. Must be the pillows—I've never slept in a bed with so many pillows."

"So I assume you slept well, then?"

"Oh yes! The bed's so soft!" Anna exclaimed. "A bit too soft, to be honest," she admitted after a short pause. "But I'm sure I'll get used to it. I mean, I thought my bed upstairs was soft and warm, compared with how I used to sleep at home—er, I mean, my other home. My old home. Where I grew up. So I suppose one can get used to anything."

"I've slept in this bed ever since I can remember," Elsa said, looking up at her tall, elegant half-tester bed. "I've never known anything else. It never really occurred to me that other people might have less comfortable beds."

"Yeah… some do."

There was a short, slightly awkward pause, then Elsa added, "Oh, if there's anything up in your old room you want to bring down, you can, you know. That might make it seem more familiar."

"Ooh, good idea," Anna said, jumping out of bed.

"I might suggest getting dressed first, however," Elsa called as Anna was about to open the door.

The redhead giggled, looking down at her thin silk nightdress. "Yes, I suppose that would help," she said with a grin.

"If Your Highness will permit me," Erin said, moving towards the young princess.

"Oh gosh," Anna said, looking up at the taller girl. "Er, yes, of course. Please."

* * *

In half an hour, Anna was washed and dressed in an elegant dark blue dress with an embroidered black waistcoat over a sky-blue bodice, and was standing in front of her sister with a shy smile on her face.

"You look lovely, Anna," Elsa told her as Aslaug put the finishing touches to her hair. "Sorry it's another one of my hand-me-downs—I'm sure you'll have your own wardrobe in no time."

"Oh, I don't mind at all," Anna said, twirling. "Do I have time before breakfast to pop up?"

"Of course. We'll be in the Small Dining Room."

"Thanks!" Anna called, heading to the door. Then she turned. "Oh, and, er, thank you, Erin."

"My pleasure, Highness. Are you sure you wouldn't like a more elegant hairstyle?" the maid asked.

Anna smiled. "Pigtails are fine, don't worry. I don't think I could keep something like Elsa's straight for a single morning."

"As you wish, Highness."

"Right, well, I'll just go to my, er, old room," Anna said, waving to her sister and slipping out the door. She hurried along to the discrete door to the servants' stairs, and in a few moments was at her old room.

"Uh, An—Your Highness!" Hilde gasped, quickly getting up from the bed as Anna burst in.

"Oh, hey, Hilde, I thought you'd be gone, sorry. And I told you, you don't have to call me Highness as long as I don't have to call you Dame Hilde. Because that makes you sound like an old matron."

The older girl grinned. "Fair enough. Although I wouldn't mind, really—not with you. So what are you doing back up here? I imagine you won't be sleeping here any more, after all."

Anna laughed and shook her head. "No, I'm sharing with Elsa. It's so wonderful!"

"No doubt. And I'm sure you'll enjoy her as a roommate a lot more than me," Hilde remarked dryly.

Anna pouted briefly. "Don't say that! You might have been a bit stuck-up at the start, but… we became friends, didn't we? Even if you always tried to deny it."

Hilde laughed. "When did I ever deny it?" Then she stopped and shrugged. "Well, I mean deny it seriously. Well, at least in the last couple of months." She looked at the smaller girl, and gave her a lopsided grin. "I'm going to miss you, feisty-pants. Now I'll be all alone here—at least until the new scullery maid arrives."

"Oh, you'll be moving out of here soon too," Anna said. "I can't have my lady-in-waiting living in the servants' quarters! No, you'll have your own bedroom, near mine. Don't worry about that—there's plenty of empty rooms in this place. They just have to get the new furniture in."

"Gosh…" Hilde said, her face a bit pink. "Thanks ever so much. Hey, how come Elsa—Princess Elsa doesn't have a lady-in-waiting?"

"She never wanted one—not with her… her powers. She didn't want anyone too close to her."

"So I'll be the only lady-in-waiting in the castle?"

"Uh-huh. Although Mamma has two Ladies of the Bedchamber, who are sort of senior ladies-in-waiting, mind."

Hilde shook her head. "If you'll forgive me, uh, Anna, it does sound strange to hear you refer to Her Majesty as 'Mamma'."

"Oh, it sounds very strange to me, too," Anna admitted. "I keep slipping up and calling her Your Majesty, but the que—but Mamma suggested I call her that—call her Mamma—as much as possible, to get used to it."

Hilde gave a light laugh. "A bit like Hans referring to me as his sister, I suppose. Which he does about every time I see him." She glanced at the clock on the table. "Yikes, is that the time? Er, if you don't mind, the Mistress of the Robes has asked me to see her, to sort out my new, uh, position and all that. I really need to rush—uh, with your permission, of course…."

"Oh my, yes, don't let me stop you!" Anna said.

Hilde did a quick half-curtsey and hurried out of the room, leaving Anna biting her lip. Seeing Hilde curtsey to her felt strange, unnatural. It was as if she were curtseying to a different person.

Alone now, she looked around at her old room, at the plain, whitewashed walls, the bare planks on the floor, the simple side tables, the chairs by the small grate, and the small triangular window that let in light but gave no view unless she stood on a chair. It was comfortingly familiar, cosy, unpretentious. And, up against one wall, opposite Hilde's, was her old bed—a simple, hard iron bed that for the beggar girl had been more luxurious than the softest feather mattresses.

For a moment she just stood there, remembering the nights she had spent on that narrow, hard bed, reading and re-reading the book of fairy tales Elsa had given her and wishing she could have her own happy ending. Anna suddenly gasped, her heart skipping a beat. The book! She'd thrown it out the window! How could she ever have done such a horrid thing? What if Elsa found out she didn't have it any more? She had to get it back! Assuming, of course, that it was still in any fit condition to read….

In a panic, she fled down the stairs, all the way to the ground floor. She stopped by the door to the rear private garden, hesitating. Taking a deep breath, Anna reminded herself, for the dozenth time, it seemed, that she was now a princess and a member of the royal family, and did not have to worry about anyone scolding her for being somewhere she wasn't supposed to be.

Pushing open the door, she slipped out into the royal family's private garden. This was the first time she had been here since that wonderful afternoon with Elsa—with her sister. And it was also the first time she had been here alone. It felt strange and familiar at the same time. Like everything else in her new life, she realized.

Making her way towards the curtain wall, Anna looked up at the bulk of the castle, looming above with its complex, interlocking roofs and gables. Carefully counting along from the left, she found the window to her old room, and then hurried to the ground below it. Hoping against hope that the book was still there….

* * *

"Anna? Hello? Are you out here? One of the maids said she'd seen you go to our garden."

Elsa walked swiftly along the winding paths, hunting for her sister. First, she checked the disused fountain where she had created Sir Olaf the Strong for Anna, but she wasn't there.

"Anna? It's breakfast time!" she called again. She walked down another path, then another, and then she spotted her. Her sister was frantically pawing through the bushes that grew near the castle itself, seemingly heedless of how messy she was getting.

"Anna!" Elsa called, a smirk on her face. "Nice to see you've found a hobby, but you know gardeners usually use a hoe, right?"

At the sound of her voice, her sister shot up, and Elsa was shocked to see tears streaming down her face, mixing with the dirt to create muddy trails.

"Oh, Anna, whatever is it?" she gasped, instantly regretting her earlier jokey tone.

"Oh… oh, Elsa," Anna sobbed. "I'm… I'm so sorry! I can't find it! I didn't mean to do it! I was just so full of bitterness, hating anything nice!"

"Calm down, Anna," her sister said. "Didn't mean to do what? What can't you find?"

"Elsa, I'm so sorry," Anna repeated. "Please, forgive me! I… er, I sort of kind of threw away that book you gave you me, _Norwegian Folktales_. I'm so sorry!" she added, fresh tears cascading down her grimy face.

"Oh, Anna," Elsa said, folding the shorter girl in a warm hug. "You don't need to worry about the book. I found it, and rescued it."

"You found it!" Anna gasped, and looked up at her sister's big blue eyes. "I'm so very sorry! What must you have thought? You must have been so angry! You must have hated me!"

Elsa shook her head, feeling her own eyes prickle with the memories. "No, Anna. Never that. I was just… saddened. I thought it meant we would never be friends again. And I… I didn't want that."

"So… you never hated me? Because you know now that wasn't really me, right? Not the real me!"

Elsa smoothed the younger girl's hair, noticing the slowly growing white patch where her ice had branded the girl. "Dearest sister, I swear by all the gods, old and new, I have never hated you, not for a minute. And I never could. Now come inside and get cleaned up! Can you imagine what Mamma would say if she saw her little princess like this?"

Anna wiped her face, and laughed. Then she stole her fingers into Elsa's hand. "I am sorry, you know," she said. "And I can promise you that I will never hate you, either. At least, never again…."

* * *

Several days later, Anna was lying in bed, dreaming, when she felt something poke her.

"Wossat…?" she mumbled, burying her face in her pillow.

The pokes continued, and then there was a quick flash of light, followed by a cold breeze. Anna opened her eyes wearily, and gasped. Snow was gently falling around her, but drifting back up before it hit her sheets, creating a slow cycle of silver flakes that sparkled in the morning sun.

She smiled. "Good morning to you too, sis. What's with the magic?"

"Because today's a special day!" Elsa said happily.

"Huh? Why?"

"Because today's your birthday!"

"My birthday?" Anna's eyes flew open. "Oh, my birthday! My first birthday! I mean, not my actual first birthday, because I'm not a baby, but my first birthday when I knew it was my birthday!"

"That's right! Happy birthday, dear sister!" Elsa said. "Wow, I never thought I'd ever say that!"

Anna gave a short laugh. "I never thought I would have a birthday, let alone a happy one. Is there going be cake? You promised there'd be cake!"

"As much as you could possibly eat!" Elsa laughed.

"Wow, really?"

"And it's chocolate cake, too!"

"Wow, really?"

"And presents, from hundreds of people!"

"Wow, really?"

"Stop that," Elsa said, giggling. "But it's not going to be all fun and games," she noted more seriously. "Pappa wants to present you to the people today, remember? Then there's the formal birthday banquet and ball with the nobility in the evening."

Anna swallowed. "Yikes."

"Don't worry. We rehearsed it enough times yesterday," Elsa said. "You'll be fine."

The bedroom door eased open and their two maids slipped in, then stopped short.

"Oh, Your Highnesses! We didn't expect you to be awake!" Aslaug said, quickly curtseying low. "Good morning, Highnesses!"

"Morning, Aslaug, Erin," Elsa said, while Anna gave them a shy wave and nod.

"And may I be the first to offer my most humble felicitations, Princess Anna," Erin added.

"Too late, sorry," Anna joked. "Elsa got in first. She woke me up."

"I couldn't sleep any more," her sister admitted.

"And this gal's awake, so I'm awake," Anna added, giggling.

"Right, let's get you ready, then!" Elsa said, grinning. "And first thing after breakfast, dancing lessons!"

* * *

"Ready?" Elsa called. "Now hold my waist, and one two three, one two three, move your feet, left foot, left foot, that's right! No, your other left! Ouch! Ooh!"

"Oh, Elsa, I'm sorry! Are you all right?"

"I'm find, don't worry," Elsa said, rubbing her foot. "You don't weigh that much. You sure you don't want me to bring in Jarl Lothbrok's son or someone to teach you? Someone who's a better dancer than me?"

Anna shook her head quickly. "No, no, I couldn't let anyone else see me."

"Well, shall we try again then?" Elsa positioned her sister's left arm around her waist, then took her right hand, and led off, counting the steps as the two sisters danced around the empty ballroom.

"Wait, wait, wait stop!" Anna gasped, a split second before the two of them fell down in a heap.

"Oof," Elsa gasped, pushing Anna off her. "Okay, that didn't work so well. I think you're trying to look down too much, and getting confused with our skirts in the way. Remember, keep your eyes on your partner, on me."

"But I keep losing my balance," Anna said. She drew her legs up under her long brown skirt, and sighed. "Why do I have to learn to dance? What is this dance, anyway?"

"It's called a waltz," Elsa told her. "It's what all the finest royal courts in Europe dance now. Grandpappa thought it most horribly scandalous, but Pappa likes it."

"But I keep getting my feet muddled. It's so complicated! I've never done this before," Anna said.

"Which is why I'm teaching you now," Elsa explained. She stood up, and held out her hand. "It's not as hard as a quadrille, at least. Come on! You're getting there! Just a few more lessons, and you'll be the perfect princess!"

"I won't! I can't! I'll never get this! I can't be the perfect princess, no matter how hard I try!"

"Why would you think that? Of course you can."

Anna shook her head. "Not me. You've been a princess all your life, you've been taught by the best tutors in the kingdom—you can do all these things so easily! Me… I can't do a thing! I can barely read, let alone do sums or dance or know anything of all the things a princess should know! I'm a stupid little beggar girl!"

"Anna!" Elsa snapped. "Stop that right now! You are not stupid! Don't you ever say that!"

"I am too stupid," Anna retorted, pouting on the floor. "I can't even do my times table. You've been a princess all your life. How can I ever be just like you?"

"You can't," Elsa said. She bent down and stroked her sister's cheek, brushing away a tiny tear. "And I wouldn't want you to. Because you're already better than me! You're so much kinder and warmer than me; you have so much more empathy, because of… of how you grew up. You are… you are the people's princess!"

"Really? You mean that?" Anna asked, looking up.

"Of course I do, silly! Now come on! Ah, I know—how about a new dance partner?" Elsa made a motion with her hands, and a large snowman formed, standing on the ballroom floor as Anna looked on in wonder. "How would you like to dance with… uh, Sir… Sir…. Anna, what's a good name?"

The young princess jumped up, laughing. "Sir Marshmallow! He's so big and soft and white and fluffy!"

* * *

Anna's heart was beating fast as she entered the drawing room that afternoon. Her parents and sister were already there, and at the sight of her, her mother smiled, holding out her hands.

"How's my darling birthday girl this afternoon?" she asked. "Have you been playing with your presents?"

"There's so many!" Anna exclaimed. "More dresses than I ever had in my life! And books and toys and dolls—oh, I love the big doll with the long blonde hair! I always wanted one!"

"That was my suggestion," Elsa said gently. "I'm glad you liked it."

"I do—I love it. I love all of them. I love you," Anna said. "Sorry for getting so weepy at lunch when you were giving them to me. I was happy, honestly."

"We know, dear," the queen said. "And we were happy to see you so happy. That's all we ever want for you."

"Sometimes I think I… I just don't deserve this much happiness," Anna said quietly.

"Oh, Anna, please, don't say that!" the queen said. "Of course you do! You deserve all your happiness! You deserve every bit of happiness we can give you!"

There was a quiet cough, and Kaisson approached.

"Are you ready, sire?" he asked.

"What about it, Anna?" her father asked, smiling at her. "Ready to meet your people?"

Anna looked out through the French windows, seeing the hundreds of people in the castle forecourt, waiting for them, for her, and swallowed hard.

"I… I suppose," she stammered.

"How's your stomach?" Elsa asked, a slight smirk playing about her lips.

Her sister smiled wanly. "I think I might be sick," she admitted. "Do we really have to do this?"

"I'm afraid we do," the king said, leaning down and holding his younger daughter's hands. "You'll be fine, don't worry."

"I'm… not worried…" Anna said, trying to put on a brave face, wondering if anyone else could hear how loudly her heart was beating.

"Now remember, we go out first, then Elsa, and then you'll be announced. You go out, and receive the adulation of the crowd, then make a few remarks. You've practiced those? You know what you're going to say?"

Anna nodded dumbly, desperately trying not to be too nervous.

"That's my girl," the king said, standing up again. "Right, Kaisson, I think we're ready."

At a sign from the butler, the French windows were thrown open, then he struck his heavy staff on the floor.

"Pray silence for His Most Gracious Majesty Agdar, King by the Grace of God of Arendelle, and Queen Idun!" the Royal Herald called, and a reverent hush fell over the crowd as the king and queen walked arm in arm out onto the balcony.

"Maybe I can't do this after all," Anna gasped, breathing heavily. "Oh, I don't think I can, I really don't!"

"You'll be fine," Elsa said. "Just pretend you're looking at a painting of people, like the ones in the gallery downstairs. That's what I do. And hang in there, Anna! You're so much stronger than I am."

"Me? But you're the princess! I mean, you've been a princess all your life! You're used to this!"

Elsa shook her head. "Oh, I'm not used to it at all. We have to do this every year, on Pappa's birthday, and I hated it so, so much. I would have nightmares about what would happen if I lost control of my curse, and the entire kingdom found out. What if I lost control, and turned the whole city into ice?" Then she smiled, and took her sister's hand. "But I'm not worried now. Not any more. And you shouldn't be too, because I'll be here for you. Just as I know you'll be there for me."

"We'll hang in there together, then?" Anna asked, a nervous half-smile on her lips.

"Together."

"Oh, Kaisson just nodded to us!" Anna gasped. "Oh dear oh dear I don't think I can do this!"

"Yes, you can. I know you can."

Anna felt her hand grasped by Elsa, feeling the cool smoothness, and took a deep breath as Kaisson struck his staff on the floor again.

"Her Royal Highness, Princess Elsa Alexandra Sonja of Arendelle!" came the voice of the herald.

"That's my cue," Elsa said, winking at her sister as trumpets sounded. "Don't worry, you'll be fine—you just walk out onto the balcony, then curtsey—not too deep, remember! You're a princess, not a maid!"

"I—!" Anna gasped as Elsa walked through the doors with a grace and poise she knew she could never match, not if she lived to be a hundred. Once on the balcony, Elsa gave a slight curtsey to her parents, then turned and faced the assembled mass below. En masse, they bowed or curtseyed, and then Elsa gave a small bob in return as they cheered her name.

Kaisson glanced out at the king, then struck his staff on the floor again.

_"_Presenting Her Royal Highness, Princess Anna Louise Sonja of Arendelle!"

"Oh my God!" Anna squeaked as the castle forecourt erupted in a loud hubbub of gasps and comments of surprise. She walked forward on uncertain legs, trying not to trip or stumble. Fixing her gaze on her family, standing waiting for her, Anna tried to pretend that no one else existed. Her heart hammering, she emerged onto the balcony as all eyes swivelled towards her, staring at her in various expressions of utter shock.

She gave a quick curtsey to her parents, then the queen took her hand and guided her around to face the crowd. She found herself standing by her mother, looking out over a sea of heads. Anna was used to being in a sea of heads. But she had never been their focal point before. It seemed like the entire population was there, even though she knew it was only a few thousand at most. Almost every single person there was the sort of person who would barely have given her the time of day before. And every one of them was bowing or curtseying low, offering their respect and loyalty to her. Her heart pounding so much she was sure people could actually see her chest moving, she felt her face flush, and just in time glanced at her father, who was gesturing subtly with his fingers.

"Ah," Anna mouthed voicelessly, and dropped to a well-rehearsed curtsey, remembering not to go too far down. Then she rose, and the noise level increased slightly as the assembled masses also straightened up.

The Royal Naval Band below struck up the haunting strains of the kingdom's national anthem, _Heimr Arnadalr_, and a thousand voices in the forecourt below sang the ancient Norse text, based on a poem unchanged since the days of the Viking Jarls. Anna had heard the anthem once or twice in her life, but never sung by so many, and never, ever, directed at her or her family, of course. It was her father, she realized with a feeling of awe, that they were singing about. Her father… and one day, her sister….

The short song died away, replaced with silence as the king raised his hand. He unrolled a parchment, and gave a slight cough.

"My lords, ladies and gentlemen, citizens of Arendelle. Today is a great day for our fair kingdom. You are all aware that on this day, nine years ago, our baby princess passed away after a few short hours of life. But that, it seems, was a terrible lie, a false memory implanted by the Old Gods as they took our child from us before we could even know her. But now, after growing up a humble commoner amongst the poorest of our people, completely unaware of her royal heritage, our youngest daughter, Princess Anna, has been returned to us by a miracle. Nay, not a miracle—by the love of her dear friend, her sister Princess Elsa. Therefore I hereby request and command you all to offer our youngest daughter your fealty and felicitations on this, her ninth birthday!"

There was a deafening roar of voices, and Anna took a step back, her heart rate suddenly increasing even more.

"Now it's your turn, darling," the queen whispered, smiling at her daughter.

"I'm so scared," Anna whispered back.

"I know you are. But be brave—everyone is dying to see you. They're here to honour you, darling. You're their princess—they love you."

Anna gulped, and took a nervous step forwards as the king raised his hand again. There was instant silence. She looked out over the sea of faces, all looking up at her with surprise and curiosity, and tried to desperately pretend they weren't real, they weren't there all staring at her. That they were no more real than figures in a painting. But… it wasn't working. Maybe she hadn't spend enough time looking at pictures, but these people were all far too real. They were all looking at her, their eyes boring into her, as if they could see right through her to the beggar girl inside. As if they were the cruel, cold masses that had spurned her so often in the streets. They hated her, despised her, Anna was suddenly sure. They knew what she really was: an imposter, a silly little match girl who shouldn't be up there in the first place. She was a fake, a fraud, they seemed to say.

"Anna, your remarks," the queen whispered.

Taking a deep breath, Anna opened her mouth, and suddenly found her mind a complete blank. She had no idea what she was going to say—all her carefully-rehearsed words had vanished like snow under a hot sun.

The crowd still stared up at her, waiting, as a low murmur started growing, swelling in volume as Anna stood there, paralyzed with fear. They were talking about her, she knew. Saying what a stupid girl she was, what a dunce. She could hear them murmuring, whispering, pointing towards her, incredulity on their faces. It was obvious that many of them couldn't believe she was a real princess, the real Anna. Of course she wasn't. What sort of princess would forget what she was going to say? Only one who wasn't even a real princess. She was a pathetic fraud, a silly, scatty maid, a beggar girl with no brain who couldn't even do the simplest things right. They didn't want her—they wanted a princess. Not her. Who would want her? She was such a disappointment, such a waste. Such a fraud.

Unable to bear it any more, Anna burst into tears, then fled the balcony, leaving raised voices of alarm behind her. But she ignored them. All she wanted to do was find some quiet refuge, somewhere she didn't have to pretend to be what she wasn't, what she could never be. Slamming the drawing room door behind her, she ran blindly through the castle, trying to get as far away as she could from the perfect princess everyone was wanting her to be.

.

* * *

**KNOWTES:**

Well, I've ended up splitting the second part of the original final chapter into two more parts to try and give enough weight to what I wanted to say. This whole section was originally going to be a lot shorter, just a single chapter, but then I realised that I couldn't just dump Anna in the castle, give her her happy ending, and say "good luck, kid." It's not that easy to suddenly find yourself go from a lowest-class maid to a princess (I assume, not actually having direct experience), so I would be doing the character a disservice by glossing over it. And as it was pushing 10,000 words, and more with the Knowtes, I wanted to reign (royal pun) things in a little. I generally think 4-5,000 words is a good chapter length. This one is 4,800 words, the next is 5,200.

Anyhow, on with the show….

The "Mistress of the Robes" is the senior lady in the royal households of Denmark, Norway, Sweden and the United Kingdom, so I figure Arendelle might as well have one. She's basically the chief lady-in-waiting. Which means she's the lady who's been waiting the longest, I guess….

Anna's birthday is her semi-canon birthday of the summer solstice. Elsa's is stated to be the winter solstice, but that's not possible (or at least highly unlikely) based on what we see on screen (when the ceremony is explicitly stated to be taking place at that time because the queen's come of age). As the "coronation" ceremony is in July, this makes Elsa a July baby. However, this is an AU, so there's no reason she couldn't be born in December. It would have been really nice if the writers had had the faintest idea about coronations and succession and all that….

Oh, and one thing confuses me slightly. _Frozen Fever_, which I assume is canon, is set on Anna's birthday, which is stated to be in June. _Frozen_ itself canonically takes place in July. This must mean that an entire year, nearly, has passed since _Frozen_ took place, right? Yet things don't seem all that different….

The waltz has this image of being a very formal, very respectable dance, but when it was first popularized, in the late 18th century/early 19th century, it was seen as quite scandalous by some, as you spent the entire dancing touching your partner. For example, someone at the time complained about how "…he put his arm around her, pressed her to his breast, cavorted with her in the shameless, indecent whirling-dance of the Germans and engaged in a familiarity that broke all the bounds of good breeding…" So this is why Elsa's grandfather, who in my History of Arendelle reigned until about 1830, didn't really approve. (I'm very very loosely basing these dates on the British monarchy, as Elsa isn't too removed in age from Victoria, who was born in 1819 (Elsa in 1823) and George III (Vicky's grandfather) died in 1820, while her uncle, William IV, died in 1830). So King Agdar has only been on the throne a few years (I'm pegging him as being in his mid-thirties). For what it's worth, in this canon too I see him and the queen dying at sea as the film shows, and Elsa ascending to the throne at only 18.)

Oh, and a quadrille is also a dance, generally performed by lobsters….

I also shoved in Marshmallow just for the hell of it, though the scene itself of course isn't just about that. There's just a few little random bits of fan service and shoutouts, like Olaf's almost-annoying repetitions, and a few other minor things.

National anthems are a fairly new thing: they only really developed when people started thinking in terms of nations (as opposed to countries or kingdoms: they're not quite the same, but I shall spare you all the lecture on the rise of the nation-state in early modern Europe and "imagined communities" you see coming). Many European anthems, including God Save the Queen (or King), as well as the French, Danish, and Spanish ones, date to the 18th century. This would make it very strange that the words to _Heimr Arnadalr_ are in Old Norse (unless Arendelle actually still speaks Old Norse, which, from the use of Younger Futhark runes in the old book and the grave stones, is not impossible in the film, but fairly unlikely in a "real world" context, so in this story I've made them speak modern Norwegian (As an aside, Arendelle speaking Old Norse would explain why Oaken has a Norwegian accent: because his native language is actually Norwegian….)). However, there's no reason that a song cannot use old poems for its lyrics, which is exactly what the Japanese national anthem does, for example. The lyrics to the _Frozen_ anthem start off with "Verðug dróttning stór," which means "Worthy queen of greatness," but "konungr" is Old Norse for king, so in this case they would be "Verðug konungr stór." Or so I assume….

Anyway, the next part of this section will be up very soon, definitely. As in a couple of days. It's already written, and just needs a bit of polishing.

[**Edited**: 5-5-15. Corrected birth date stuff to match solstices. Hadn't realized how much I had gone on about this issue...]


	25. A Dream Afraid of Waking

**25\. A Dream Afraid of Waking**

[**Last time on ****_Living Flower_**: Overwhelmed by all the pressure, especially at her formal presentation to the people, Anna has fled to find refuge, to try and understand who she really is….]

* * *

Without consciously thinking where she was going, Anna flung open the green baize door to the servants' quarters and galloped down the familiar narrow stairs, her skirts brushing the walls of the gloomy passage. Running along the stone corridors, she threw open a door, and stopped short. She suddenly realized she was standing in the kitchens, busy with cooks and maids preparing dishes for that evening's banquet—her birthday feast.

No one noticed her for a few seconds, and then Mrs Pedersen, the assistant cook, gasped, and quickly curtseyed.

"Anna—I mean, Your Royal Highness!"

The room was immediately filled with murmured repetitions of "Your Highness!" and the rustling of skirts and aprons as a dozen servants curtseyed to Anna. The young redhead took a step back, her face pale and her eyes wide with fear, and then, without saying anything, pushed past them and into the scullery, the tiny, dirty room where she had spent so many hours over the past six months. A place she knew no one else would go unless they absolutely had to. Her refuge.

She shut the door behind her, then stopped, shocked. For a moment, she thought she had seen a ghost, a doppelgänger of herself. A small young girl with dark reddish hair and a damp pinafore over her maid's uniform was standing at one of the large sinks, scrubbing out a huge cooking pot. Anna stood there, staring at the girl in her poor, stained apron, standing on the creaky wooden slats as memories came flooding back to her; vivid, sharp in their painful detail.

Had that ever really been her? Had she ever really been so poor, so wretched, that to become a scullery maid, the lowest servant of them all, had been such a grand thing to be? Compared to what she was now, there was so little difference between a beggar and a maid, and yet… and yet to the old Anna, there had been all the difference in the world. She had thought her life as a maid so fine… and, compared to what it had been, it was. It had been a hard life, but a good one. One she was suited to, could understand.

The scullery maid glanced around incuriously at the interruption, then gasped in shock, dropping her scrubbing brush and curtseying clumsily.

"Hi—Highness?" she gasped. "How… how may I s… serve, Y'Royal Highness?" she stammered, keeping her eyes downcast.

The sudden question broke into Anna's memories.

"What's your name?" she asked.

"Please, Yer Highness, me name's Riborg. Riborg Voight."

"I don't remember you, Riborg. Have you been here long?"

The maid shook her head. "Just a few days, may it please Yer Highness."

"Just a few days? Oh, of course. Er, welcome to Arendelle Castle, and I… I hope you like it here."

Riborg nodded vigorously. "I do! I'm ever so happy here, Highness! It's so much better than what I had before. Living in a real castle! I feel like a princess!" She stopped, and blushed. "I'm dreadful sorry, Highness. I never meant to say that."

Anna reached out and took Riborg's pale, thin hand, comforting her. "Don't worry," she said softly. "You might not believe it, but I know how you feel. I really do. I was once just like you."

"Is… is it true, Highness?" Riborg asked, looking up at the princess with wide, pale green eyes. "I mean, what they say in the Servants' Hall, about… about what you…."

Anna nodded. "It is. I grew up as a match girl in Hvitekapellet. So, what about you? Where're you from?"

"I were a flower girl afore, Highness. Livin' on the streets. Here, there. All over, really."

Anna smiled, glad to find someone she could relate to. "Where did you sell? Femtegarten? Maimesse? I always found lots of takers for my lucifers in Maimesse."

"I didn't sell anywhere near so posh," Riborg said, shaking her head. "They… didn't like me there."

"They didn't much like me there either," Anna admitted. "The gentry were so rude to me, all the time. I preferred the sailors."

"Oh, down by the docks!" Riborg said, her eyes lighting up. "Oh, yeah, I used to hang out there sometimes too! Sometimes a fisherman would want to buy peonies or crocuses for his sweetheart, so I sold quite a bit down that way. Mind you, some of them could be right bastards with the drink on them. You ever have to deal with those _drittsekker_?" The maid suddenly stopped and flushed scarlet. "Uh, forgive me, Your Highness. I never meant to be so familiar. I'm ever so sorry!"

Anna quickly shook her head. "Oh, no, no, I'm not offended at all! It's good to talk with someone who… who knows what it's like out there." She sighed. "And I know all about the drink. My father—that is, the man who raised me—he drank." She stopped, remembering her unhappy childhood. "I'm so lucky to have escaped," she continued in a softer voice. "It was such a hard life. I thought I would never escape it—I couldn't even conceive of escaping it. Until one day, when I was nearly frozen to death, I thought I was going to escape it through death. But instead… instead a kind, generous girl saw me and took care of me, giving me a home… and now a family."

"She sounds like a very kind girl, Highness," the maid ventured.

"She is," Anna agreed. "If it hadn't been for her, I'd be dead."

"And I'd never have found a friend, and a sister," came a new voice as the door opened.

"Highness!" Riborg gasped, dropping to a curtsey again.

"Sorry to intrude," Elsa said. "I was… er, looking for my sister. I tried the stables, then Kristoff suggested I might find her here."

"I… I should… I think Mrs Gerdason is calling, Highnesses," Riborg said nervously, scuttling out of the scullery.

"Thanks for talking with me, Riborg," Anna called after her.

"What's the matter, Anna?" Elsa asked, picking up her dresses to keep them clear of the mucky water that was constantly pooled on the scullery floor. "Why did you suddenly run off? Anna, this isn't where you belong. This isn't you—not the real you."

"But what is the real me?" Anna asked. She lifted up her elegant gown, holding it out to show Elsa. "This? This princess in expensive finery? I don't know that girl! The only girl I know is Anna Sommersdatter! Who is this Anna von Oldenburg-Àrnadalr? She's not me! I'm not a princess! Not inside, not where it counts! I thought I could just leave Anna Sommersdatter behind, toss her out like a discarded shoe. But I can't. She's me—I'm her." She took a deep breath, and looked around at the piles of dirty plates, tears trickling down her cheeks. "Oh Elsa, this is the world I know. This is the only world I know. Your world… is not my world."

"You're… you're not going to leave are you?" Elsa gasped. "No! You can't! Please!"

Anna quickly shook her head. "Never! You're my sister! I love you! And Mamma and Pappa? I couldn't leave them either. Having a proper family—I wouldn't give that up for anything! Anything!" She sighed, wiping her eyes. "I love being part of your—of our family. It's just that I… I can't be this Princess Anna, this perfect girl everyone expects me to be! I'm just Anna! I just want to be Anna! But…" she ended, her voice dropping to a whisper, "I don't know even who that is any more…."

Elsa reached out, holding her sister's hand. "Anna, I know it's hard—I don't pretend to understand what you're going through. But I know it's hard to find out all your life was a lie, that you were robbed of your birthright by some curse. I was never able to lead a normal life either—cursed by the God of Winter Winds, I've lived in fear that one little mistake means I'll be hounded as a witch, reviled, maybe even killed. I couldn't even touch my own parents without hurting them. I always thought I would have to live a life alone, cut off from everyone, never being able to… never being able to… to love," she choked out. Then she smiled at her sister, holding out her bare hands for Anna to take. "But then you came, and changed my fate."

Anna bit her lip, looking up at her sister with tear-filled eyes.

"Anna, darling, are you in there?" came the queen's voice.

Anna looked up as her mother gingerly picked her way over the damp boards, a silken handkerchief pressed to her nose.

"I'm… sorry, Mamma," she said, looking back down again. "I… shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have run away like that."

"No, it is we who should apologise," the queen said, removing the handkerchief from her nose with a slight sign of disgust. "I'm so sorry that facing your people was so overwhelming. We should have been more considerate; should have realised how stressful it would be for you."

"I'm really sorry… I just couldn't cope. Everyone was looking at me, like… like I was still the beggar girl on the streets, pestering them to buy matches. Like I was a fraud."

"No, no, dear, they weren't. Really, they weren't. They were curious, concerned. That's all. And your father and I are concerned about you too, about your happiness. That's all we want for you, dearest Anna. Our perfect little princess."

"But I'm not! I'm a failure as a princess—how can I be a princess! I'm a beggar girl, just… just one whose parents happen to be the king and queen. I can barely read, can't do sums well, can't speak other languages, don't know history or jommitry—geometry—or politics or any of those things Elsa can do so well. I'll never be as good as her. I'll never be a real princess!"

"Oh, please, Anna! Don't ever think that! Not for a minute!" the queen exclaimed. "That doesn't matter—we love you anyway, and never forget that! It doesn't matter if you're a princess or a pauper, you're our daughter, And we love you so, dearest Anna!"

"But why?" Anna asked in frustration. "How can you love me? You barely know me—I'm a stranger to you, to this family!"

The queen swallowed hard, unable to stop her tears. "Anna, darling, it's true we missed out on seeing you grow up. That's the most painful thing I'll ever know, and I'm so, so sorry I couldn't be there for you, to look after you, cherish you, protect you like a mother should. I'm sorry I couldn't be the mother you needed, the mother you deserved. I never saw you blossom into the wonderful young woman that you are. That's something I can never get back, and it pains me every time I see you."

The queen moved over to her child, enveloping her in her arms, heedless of the stagnant dishwater soaking into her shoes.

"Anna, my sweet little girl, there is nothing, nothing at all, I can do to ever make it up to you, to ever give you back those lost years. But please, don't for a moment imagine that I don't love you any the less for having been unable to be your mother."

"But… but how could you love me? Someone you've only just met, a child you didn't raise?" Anna asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Oh, _min elskede datter_, of course I could. Even before our memories were restored, I still had a few, a very few, precious memories of those fleeting hours after you were born. For a few short hours, I held you in my arms, like I am holding you now, and that is all a mother needs to love her child for a lifetime. Anna, my darling, I have never stopped loving you. From the moment you were born, I have never stopped…."

Anna looked up at the queen—at her mother—seeing the sorrow, the deep regret etched in her face, while behind all that, glowing as brightly and as unchangingly as the sun, her love for her stolen child. A love that was as true, as genuine as any the young girl had ever experienced.

Suddenly Anna found herself sobbing, bawling her eyes out, hugging her mother desperately as she wept, the emotions overwhelming her; guilt, love, pain, loneliness, and joy all cascading down, like a raging mountain river, growing and growing in speed and power until it leapt off the precipice, arcing out in an unstoppable torrent of passion as she sought solace and comfort in the soft, warm bosom of her mother.

For a while, mother and daughter remained embracing, then Anna pulled away, and looked up at the kind, loving face of her mother. Her _mother_, she thought. Her real mother, who loved her, every bit as much as her grandmother had. Loving her mother did not mean forgetting her grandmother. Her mother being a queen did not make her grandmother's love any lesser, nor her mother's any greater. She would never forget her grandmother, never stop loving her, but now… now she had a mother. A real mother, who would love her as only a mother truly could.

"I'm sorry, Mamma," she said softly. "I really am. I do love you."

"And I you, Anna. You stay down here just as long as you like, darling. This castle is your home, all of it. From the scullery to the Great Hall, from the stables to the thrones." The queen bent down and gave Anna a quick kiss on her forehead. "Come up when you're ready, dear. That's all we ask."

"I'll be there soon," Anna said, smiling. "Thank you, Mamma. Ever so much."

"Oh, Anna, I love you so, my little darling. Elsa, stay with her. I need to get back to your father, let him know Anna's going to be all right."

Elsa nodded dumbly, blinking back tears of her own.

After the queen left, Anna sighed, touching her forehead where her mother's lips had touched her. "After my grandmother died, I thought nobody else would ever kiss me like that," she said in a quiet voice.

There was a long silence, broken only by the sound of water dripping from somewhere. Outside, they could hear the sounds of the servants bustling about with the meal, but in the small, dark scullery, the two sisters were left alone together.

"How are you feeling?" Elsa asked eventually.

"Much better, thanks. Sorry for all the… you know. Running, weeping, ruining the public presentation; all that not very princessy stuff." Anna looked down at the floor, at her expensive shoes. "Gosh, these are all dirty."

Anna felt her sister's cool touch on her shoulder.

"Forget the shoes. You've got lots more. Come on, let's get you changed and to your party! Remember, there's chocolate cake after the ball!"

"Ooh, chocolate cake?" Anna allowed herself to smile. "You said the magic word. And I suppose I can't stay down here forever. Riborg has to get on with her work, after all."

Elsa looked around at the dishes piled high. "Poor Riborg. There's so many of them. Who knew we owned a thousand salad plates?"

Anna laughed. "I did. I washed enough! It felt more like eight thousand! Come on! Let's get back to Mamma and Pappa!"

* * *

As Erin was putting the final touches to Anna's hair before the evening's banquet, there was a knock on the door and the king entered.

"Your Majesty!" Erin gasped, curtseying low.

Anna rose and gave her father a quick curtsey as well, then stood there anxiously. She had not seen him since fleeing the balcony, and she was desperately hoping he wasn't too angry with her.

"Leave us, please," the king said, gesturing to the maid.

Erin curtseyed again, and hurried from the room, leaving Anna alone with her father. There was a brief silence, Anna staring at the floor, then the king spoke.

"You… look wonderful, my darling."

Anna raised her head. He didn't sound angry at all, and she ventured a smile. "Really?"

"The picture of sophisticated grace," the king added, making Anna blush pink. "The perfect princess."

"Pappa," Anna said slowly, "I'm sorry… about earlier. About running away. I… I just got so scared."

"That's all right," he said. "Your mother explained everything. Don't worry about what everyone thought. You're a princess—you can do what you like. Well, within reason, of course," he added with a lopsided smirk that reminded Anna of her sister.

"But I'm not a very good one," Anna told him. "A good princess wouldn't run away—she would do her duty. She shouldn't be scared of other people."

"We can try again later, if you like. Your people want to honour you. Our people are rejoicing today, every one of them."

"Every one of them?" Anna asked, gazing out of the window at the city. "Every one of those people out in the forecourt, maybe. Or the lords at tonight's ball. Not the ones in the poor areas, the ones who are too busy trying to survive to care about some silly princess."

"Now, Anna, that's a bit unfair. Our people all love you, no matter what class they are."

"I do wish you wouldn't keep saying 'our people'," Anna said quietly. "We don't own them."

"No, but we are responsible for them," the king told her. "It is our duty to keep them safe and happy."

"But you haven't been, have you?" Anna countered. "Look at me—at where I grew up. There are hundreds just like me there, you know. Girls and boys who will be going hungry tonight while we stuff our faces with cake. Who will be out on the streets, desperately trying to earn enough to keep body and soul together, before they retreat back to their tiny, filthy lodgings—if they even have any home to return to! I used to think that God had ordained some to be rich, some to be poor—that poverty was God's will, and the rich were blessed. But now… now, I'm a beggar who became a princess—why am I the only one to get a happy ending? Is that God's will? It's not fair!"

Her father's expression turned serious. "You're right, Anna. It isn't. And I admit, before you were returned to us, I never thought too much about the poor. We gave alms, charity, of course, but I never looked to see where that money went, or how the people who received it lived. I… I had no idea how bad things were." He stopped, and bent down to look his youngest daughter in the eyes. "And that, Anna, is why I am going to use the profits from our cod trade with Britain to remodel the city, bringing light and air into the narrow, filthy alleys. We'll build housing for the poor, and find work for those without money. I shall set up free hospitals, ensure that all children are educated. No one will ever starve in our kingdom again."

Anna's eyes grew round. "Really? Oh, that's wonderful!"

The king smiled, and took her hand. "Anna, I will make you one solemn promise. As king, as your father, I swear to you that no one in our entire kingdom will ever again have to grow up like you did. Arendelle will become a beacon of compassion for the world. And it will be all thanks to you, my darling child. What you have taught us, about how the most beautiful flower can grow out of the foulest earth."

"I… I…" Anna stammered, then found herself weeping again. "Thank you, Pappa," she whispered, hugging him tightly.

"Thank you, Anna," he whispered back. "For helping me be a better king, a wiser ruler. This is exactly why you are going to be such a wonderful princess. You're going to be the wisest, warmest princess ever."

* * *

After the banquet, Anna found herself sitting on a grand seat beside her parents' thrones, with her sister on the other side. The ballroom was filled with colourful gowns and ornate uniforms, and the young princess was feeling quite overwhelmed. A succession of lords and ladies had come to bow in front of her, to which she was expected to smile, nod, and offer a few short words of thanks. After the first dozen, however, she had started to relax, helped by the odd encouragement from her mother, who was seated on the throne next to her.

Not to mention from feeling rather full from the birthday banquet, which had been one of the most amazing meals of her young life. So much food, she thought. There had been so much left over when they had finished as well, but her father had assured her that the leftovers would be distributed to the poor. So Anna had deliberately left many of her dishes quite untouched, to ensure that the poor would get as much as possible. But even eating only some of the courses had left her feeling fuller than she could ever remember, and so for the moment Anna was quite content to sit and allow a procession of complete strangers to greet her, and smile and nod at them. It was as much as she could do, she felt, to not actually nod off.

Finally, the last lord had sworn his fealty, and then, at a gesture from the king, the small orchestra in the minstrels' gallery began playing another tune, and the assembled guests started dancing an elegant waltz.

"That's pretty music," Anna commented to her mother.

"Strauss's _Little Doves Waltz_," the queen said. She sighed, her eyes taking on a distant look. "Your father and I first danced to this on a visit to Corona before you were born. Now I can once again hear it without feeling sad."

"Everyone looks so elegant and graceful," Anna said, looking out at the ballroom, filled with twirling figures in gorgeous colours. "It's so beautiful."

Her mother smiled. "Would you like to ask some of these handsome young men if they would like to dance? Jarl Lothbrok's son Harald is heading this way."

"Um, not just yet, I think," Anna said, shrinking back in her seat as a tall red-blonde boy in an elegant uniform approached the royal family.

"Might I have the honour of this dance, Your Highness?" he asked, bowing low to Elsa, causing Anna to give a quick sigh of relief.

"Uh, well…" Elsa stammered, looking at her parents and sister. "I'm not… I'm not sure I…."

"Go on," Anna said, grinning. "Show your sister how it's done!"

Elsa made a quick face at her friend, then shrugged. "If you step on my toes, Harald Lothbrok, I'll have my father throw you in the dungeon," she said, doing her best to appear stern and commanding.

Anna bit her lip to stop from laughing as Elsa and the boy whirled away into the crowd. Then she caught sight of a familiar figure.

"Oi, Kristoff!" she called, jumping up and waving.

The queen gave a discreet cough. "A princess _might_ not want to shout 'Oi' across a ballroom full of people," she murmured.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Anna gasped, mortified, clapping her hands to her mouth. "I'm sorry!"

"But then again, a princess can do what she likes!" the queen quickly added. "Oi, Kristoff, over here!" she called, standing and beckoning.

"Thanks, Mamma," Anna said, her face pink. "Sorry."

"Uh, is… er, you summoned me, Your Majesty?" Kristoff asked, looking from the queen to Anna and back again.

"I did," Anna said. She looked at him and smiled. "I'm so glad to see you. You, uh, look very handsome."

Kristoff picked at his new and highly starched formal uniform, a gift from the king. "I feel very uncomfortable, to be honest, Anna—Highness. But I am very glad you invited me to your birthday celebrations."

"Of course I did! Why can't I have people I like at my own party?" Anna said. Then she grinned. "I'm just glad you didn't bring Sven."

"He wanted to come, you know," Kristoff said. "He misses you."

Anna gave a slight sigh. "I miss him too. I'm so busy these days with learning to be a princess. Maybe I can visit you next week…."

"Uh, I will be leaving for the mountains tomorrow," Kristoff said. "I spend summers up there with my family, remember, harvesting ice from the solstice to the equinox."

"Oh, right," Anna said. "I'll… miss you," she added shyly.

"Well, I'll be coming in from time to time to deliver ice," he said. Then he scratched his head. "Leastways, assuming your sister doesn't put me out of business. You know, with her…" he finished, twiddling his fingers.

"Oh no, she'd never do that!" Anna said. She caught sight of some young noble moving towards her, and quickly grabbed Kristoff's hand. "Pretend you're dancing with me!" she ordered, leading him out to a corner of the ballroom.

"But I can't dance!" the stable boy protested as Anna pushed him around in circles and he did his best to prevent himself tripping.

"Nor can I," Anna told him. "So let's just pretend together, and maybe I won't have to embarrass myself."

"Well, the music has ended anyway," Kristoff noted. "Oops, no, they've started playing again."

"Well, let's keep pretending to waltz," Anna said. "If we just sort of walk around in circles, maybe people won't notice."

"They don't seem to be doing the same thing we are," Kristoff said, looking confused.

"Wait, is this a waltz?" Anna asked, noticing that the men and women were now dancing further apart from each other, and the music sounded quite different.

"It's a sarabande," Elsa said, joining them. "I'll sit this one out, thank you," she added to Harald, who bowed and left.

"A… sara… sarabande? You didn't teach me this one," Anna told her.

"It's not as easy as a waltz," Elsa said. "Let's sit down here by the wall and watch."

"Might we join you, Highness?" Hilde asked, coming over with her brother in tow. "I don't know this either. I think I managed to fake the waltz, but not this."

"I've been trying to teach you, sis," Hans said, smiling.

"I'm just not a good dancer," Hilde admitted, sitting next to Anna, her brother beside her.

"Two left feet," Hans quipped. "And both usually treading on mine."

"Would you like me to try and teach you the sarabande?" Elsa asked her sister.

"What? Here? Now?" Anna gasped. "Uh, I'm not sure. I liked learning the waltz. At least, once I was doing it with Sir Marshy."

"Well, unfortunately Sir Marshmallow can't join us here," Elsa said, giving a light laugh.

"Pardon, Highness, but who is Sir Marshmallow?" Hilde asked.

Elsa went pink. "Ah. He's… he's a... it's a nickname. For…."

"Elsa made a snowman for me to dance with!" Anna exclaimed.

"A snowman? You danced with a snowman? You mean he was alive?" Hilde gasped.

"Oh, no, no," Elsa said quickly. "He was just a snowman. I can't make snow come alive, I can only make it move. And, er, I would prefer it if none of you discussed my… ability at public events."

"Forgive me, Highness," Hilde said, lowering her head.

"No, no, I'm not angry," Elsa said. "I'd just prefer that it not be mentioned. I'm not quite ready for that yet. Now come on, Anna, we're going to dance the sarabande!"

"Wait, isn't the music ending?" Anna asked.

"Oh, so it is." Elsa raised her hand, and a footman hurried up to her. "Tell the orchestra to repeat their last piece," she commanded. He nodded, and hurried off.

"Can you just do that?" Anna asked. "Tell them what to play?"

"Of course," Elsa said, smiling. "We're princesses, and it's your party, after all. Now come on, stand up and copy me!"

Anna took Elsa's hand, and the two of them moved out to the dance floor, where the lords and ladies of Arendelle made room for them in the crowded ballroom as the music started up again. But for the two sisters, it was as if they were alone, dancing together, the only people in the each other's world.

* * *

"She's pretty good," Hilde commented, watching.

"Who?" Kristoff asked. "Princess Elsa or Anna—Princess Anna?"

"Anna. I mean, Elsa's good of course. But I think Anna is quite good too."

"Makes sense," Kristoff said. "They're sisters, after all."

"True. But isn't Anna good for having grown up a match girl?"

"She's not a match girl any more, though," Hans remarked, then laughed. "I never thought I'd see the day. A beggar becoming a princess."

"I know," Hilde sighed. "It's a fairy tale. It really is."

"You know, sis," Hans said, a mischievous glint in his eye, "I might just write all of this as a story. I mean, changing a few things, making it more interesting and all that. Maybe make Elsa a queen. But keep the magic snow powers, the quest to find a loved one, all that stuff of course."

"Don't you dare, Hans!" Hilde said, making a face.

"Why not? It could sell well, make me some money."

"You mustn't! Write a silly story about the princesses? You can't!"

Hans grinned, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Very well, O Dame Hilde Andersdatter. I won't even mention Anna and Elsa—well, not by their real names…." He grinned. "I'll use old Gerdy and Kaisson's names instead—how about that?"

His sister glared at him. "Hans Christian Andersen, if you think I'm going to let you write a silly story about some 'Snow Queen', you are very much mistaken!"

* * *

That evening, after their maids had left, the two princesses sat by the window in their room, looking out over the city. Lights were still burning in many of the squares, and every so often a firework would be shot off, exploding over the city, its bang sounding a few seconds later.

Elsa gestured out the window. "You see how happy your people are that you're back?"

Anna gave a short laugh. "I think they're more happy that the king has given everyone in the city a day off to celebrate!"

"Maybe, but they're happy for you, too," Elsa assured her. "They really are. Our people are happy. They're happy that their princess has returned to them."

"Oh, I hope so," Anna whispered, then gave a deep sigh.

"What's the matter?"

"Sometimes I still feel like I'm a fraud, and any day I'm going to be found out and thrown back onto the streets."

"Never." Elsa reached over and held her sister's hand. "Are you still having those nightmares?"

"Sometimes," Anna said, sighing. She glanced at Elsa's pale face, almost white in the moonlight, and smiled. "Not so often these days, not when I can wake and hear you breathing opposite me. And I tell myself I wouldn't care about waking up back on the streets, not so long as you're there with me."

"Always," Elsa told her. "I told Mamma once I would prefer to be a beggar with you than a princess living in isolation."

"I could handle anything if you were there with me," Anna said, a distant smile on her face.

"Mind you, I'd prefer to be a princess with you than a beggar," Elsa added, trying to lighten the mood.

Anna gave a short laugh. Then she sighed. "Being a princess is nice, I admit. But… sometimes I feel so… so guilty," she admitted.

"Guilty? Why? What have you done?"

"That's it," Anna said. "I don't really know why I feel guilty. There's a part of me that thinks that I should be still out there, because I always was out there—that was the real me; this isn't. And I know that's not right, that the real me is the me who's your sister," she added quickly. Then she looked out over the city again. "Maybe I'm feeling guilty for surviving," she added eventually. "Grandmamma died, Olaf died—why didn't I die? Wasn't I supposed to die, out there, hungry, alone? I don't deserve this. I don't deserve a happy ending. I never had happiness in my life. I wasn't never supposed to be happy," she finished, tears trickling down her cheeks.

"That's not true, Anna," Elsa said softly. She pulled out her silk handkerchief and gently wiped her sister's tears away. "The reason you didn't die out there is because I saw you. Because I was hiding up in the tower, trying to escape my fate; trying to escape being a princess cursed with magical powers. I had always thought I was fated to be alone for ever, that I could never dare become close to anyone. But then when I found you, I realised that wasn't true. That we don't have to accept our fates. I had changed your fate—why couldn't I change mine? Anna, we're not _supposed_ to be unhappy, to die, or to live alone. Our fates are in our hands. Our fates are what we make them. And we've made our own happy ending. Together."

Anna gave her sister a wan smile. "Maybe. I'm not sure I understand all that philopos…philosophy. I just… it's just that…"

"It's just that you're Anna, I'm Elsa. You're my sister, and my best friend. That's all that matters," Elsa agreed. She took Anna's smaller hand in hers, cupping it with her other hand. "I remember the first time I saw this hand," she said slowly. "It was blue with cold; thin, poor, worn to the bone. And now look at it—look at you. You've blossomed so wonderfully. And remember, th_e _flower that blooms in adversity is the rarest and most beautiful of all._"_ She smiled. "Talking of which, I have something for you."

She got up and went to her bedside cabinet, but was back in a moment, holding out a box enclosed in a delicate tracery of ice, which she laid on the sill by her sister.

"Oh, that's so beautiful!" Anna exclaimed. "But really, another present? I've got so many today—you really didn't have to."

"Ah, but this one's special," her sister said, a small smile playing about her lips.

"What is it?"

"Why not open it and see?"

"Ah, of course," Anna said, eagerly breaking through the ice to reveal the inlaid wooden box inside, which she then opened.

"I don't understand…" she said, lifting out a glazed china vase, filled with soil. "A pot of dirt?"

Elsa shook her head, smiling. "No, it's not. Well, not just dirt. It's a Golden Crocus, the symbol of Arendelle, because of the way that it blooms even in the cold winter snow, showing beauty and strength in adversity. By tradition, each princess born to our family is given one on her first birthday. You… well, you missed out, so you get it now."

"Oh, that's wonderful," Anna said, smiling. "Thank you. I'll take really good care of it."

"Remember," her sister said, holding her hand, "it might look like just a pile of dead soil, but deep down below the dirt, ready to burst forth in grace and beauty with the sun's love, there sleeps a living flower…."

.

* * *

**KNOWTES:**

Okay, this is finally the penultimate instalment. And this time I mean it. Honestly. Just the epilogue to go now, set around Christmas/New Year. I just had to get Anna to finally accept her new life, which in fact could probably have been a substantial story on its own.

The title is taken from the song "The Rose," which I have also tangentially referenced in the closing part. And done a totally gratuitous title drop just to ram my theme home. Yeah, it's not subtle...

The "salad plates" thing is partly a bit of fanservice, but mainly because when I first heard the song, I thought it was "who knew we owned **a** thousand," but the lyrics actually say "**eight** thousand." Frankly I think the former is more realistic by a long way, and seems to fit better, too. The meter of the song seems to want a very light stress on "eight," making it sound (to me) like "a" anyway.

"Riborg Voight" is the name of Hans Christian Andersen's first and truest love, one that was unrequited. Talking of HCA, having already decided that Hilde's surname is Andersdatter, her brother would logically have to be called Ander**sen**. And who knows, in about ten years he might publish a story about a little girl called Gerda and a boy called Kai, and a ruler with magical snow powers…. (Oh, and if you wish to consider Hans in this story as eventually falling in love with Riborg the new scullery maid, I won't stop you….)

"Drittsekker" apparently means "dirtbag" in Norwegian. Probably something worse, depending on how loosely you translate it. At any rate, pardonmynorwegian dot com says it's "dirtbag" so blame them if it's worse.

It's hard to work out where rooms are in the castle, but Elsa's room appears to face away from the city, and Anna's is at a ninety-degree angle to it, so I have decided that her windows (the bedroom both girls now share) looks towards the city. Thematically it fits in with Elsa's decreasing self-imposed exclusion from her people, so I'll go with that.

Concept art for _Frozen_ shows a clear minstrels' gallery in what I assume is the ballroom. Which looks pretty much identical to art for the throne room, actually. They're probably the same room. It's not a very big castle, after all. In my personal head canon, the Great Hall is the Throne Room is the Ballroom. Something like Buckingham Palace will have a separate throne room, but then Buckingham Palace is huge (it's actually larger than Versailles in floor area, though Versailles blows away every other palace on earth in terms of its full estate (building footprint and gardens)), and Buck House is also far, far, _far_ grander than Arendelle Castle. Which is why the Duke of Weselton was so dismissive of the Arendelle royal family. Incidentally, when this story is set (1836), Buckingham Palace was not the royal residence: that was St. James's Palace, which is still actually the official residence of the court (this is why ambassadors to the UK are "Ambassadors to the Court of St. James"). Buckingham Palace was the "Queen's House," lived in by Queen Charlotte. It became the main royal residence in 1837, when Victoria ascended the throne.

Enough about that. Johann Strauss's Täuberlin-Walzer (_Little Doves Waltz_) was composed in 1826—I had to make sure I chose a waltz that was old enough. I discussed waltzes in the last Knowtes, but a "sarabande" is a Baroque dance, popular in France as a slow court dance. Handel wrote a particularly nice one in the Fourth Movement of his _Keyboard Suite In D Minor_ (published in 1733), so I imagine they're playing that. Like the waltz, the sarabande was considered a little scandalous in its time, even being banned in Spain in the 16th century.

"Th_e _flower that blooms in adversity is the rarest and most beautiful of all" is slightly paraphrased from _Mulan_, as I'm sure most of you recognized. Disney fanservice, to be sure, but I wouldn't use it if it didn't fit. Or if I didn't _think_ it fit, which may or may not be the same thing, of course….

And with that, there's just one more instalment to go, to be posted in a week or two. I need to do some research into traditional Norwegian Christmasses first….

**[Edited: **12 April 2015: For some reason I had got the name muddled. I initially used "Riborg Voigt" as the name of the new scullery maid, then changed it to Kirsten for some reason, and forget to change the reference to the name's origin.]

[**Edited**: 27-4-14. Minor editing issues fixed.]


	26. Spring's Returning Hour

**26\. Spring's Returning Hour**

Most terribly cold it was; it was snowing, and was quite dark by now. The market stalls in the square were shutting up, and people were bundled up well against the winter chill, with thick warm coats and heavy boots. They hurried to and fro, intent on their own errands, and few even noticed the small, thin girl and her little boxes of lucifers.

"Matches, sir? Buy my… my fine matches?" she asked in a timid, weak voice, holding a few white phosphorus matches out in her pale hand.

"Out of my way, beggar," someone snarled, pushing the girl aside and causing her to drop her matches.

For a moment she felt like weeping, but there was no point in indulging her emotions. People wouldn't want to buy from a crying girl. Instead, she bent down to quickly pick her precious matches up before they got trampled into the dirt.

"Here's some over here," called a young girl. The match girl looked up gratefully as a warmly-gloved hand came into view, holding a dirty box of lucifers.

"Thanks," she mumbled, taking the box. Then she noticed how exquisite and expensive the glove was, and looked up still farther, into the face of the other girl. It was a young redhead, dressed in elegant, rich finery, yet crouching in the mud, seemingly unconcerned about getting dirty. For a moment the little match girl stared, confused, then she recognised the smiling face gazing into her own, one she had seen plastered throughout the city over the last six months, and gasped.

"Pr—Princess Anna! Highness!"

"Is that all your boxes?" the princess asked, rising to her feet.

The match girl nodded, still crouched low, bowing her head. "Yes'm! Thank you ever so much, Highness!"

Anna smiled. "Rise, please," she said, extending a hand with a large silver coin in it, which she pressed into the match girl's hand. "I'll take a box. You may keep the change."

"Than... thank you, Highness!" the girl exclaimed, then shivered.

"Oh, you're cold!" Anna exclaimed. "Hans, give her a blanket."

"Of course, Highness," the footman said, removing a blanket from the dozens neatly piled in the carriage standing beside him, and handing it to the girl.

"Take this, with our blessing," Anna said. She paused, sniffing the air. "It's going to be crisp tonight. Do you have a place to sleep?"

The girl nodded. "Yes'm, thank ye, Highness. My pa and me, we just moved into one of them new flats His Majesty builded for us—for the poor folk like us."

"Oh, that's nice. Do… do you like it?"

"Oh, ever so much, Highness! It's dry an' warm, and there's fresh water from a well, an' real glass in the winders and all!"

"And do you get enough food to eat?" Anna asked.

The girl nodded again. "The royal mongers always have good prices, and fresh vegetables."

"Thanks to our subsidies," came a new voice. The match girl dipped her head again as Princess Elsa came around from the other side of the carriage, her arms bare despite the winter cold.

"Subsidies. Highness?" the match girl asked nervously. "What's subsidies?"

Elsa smiled. "The royal treasury provides all the food sold by the royal mongers, to keep the prices down and the quality high. Well, acceptable, at any rate."

"And the blankets, Highness?"

"Our royal father's gift to any who are cold this winter," Elsa said.

"Here, take one for your pappa as well," Anna added, grabbing one herself and pushing it on the match girl. "And remember, if you ever need more, castle staff will be in the square most nights this winter with blankets and hot soup. No one in Arendelle is going to go cold or hungry this winter. That's our promise."

The match girl's eyes watered, and she curtseyed again. "Thank ye both so very much, Highnesses," she gasped, clutching her blankets tightly. "This winter's already so much better than last! I cannae believe how good ye are to us!"

"A kingdom's greatness is measured by how it treats its weakest subjects," Elsa told her. "That's something my sister taught us." She gave the girl another reassuring smile. "What's your name?"

"Anna, may it please Your Highness."

Elsa briefly froze, staring at the little match girl with a distant expression, then laughed. "That's a lovely name, Anna. Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas to you, Highness! And to you, Highness!" the girl gasped, curtseying low to both princesses then hurrying off with her precious bundle.

"You know she'll probably just sell those," Hans commented dryly.

"Oh, don't be so pessimistic," Hilde called from inside the carriage, where she was sorting boxes. "You know blankets with the royal crest cannot be bought or sold. Are we just about done here? My hands are freezing!"

"We'll head back at eight," Anna said. "And then you can have a nice hot bath."

"I'm certainly looking forward to that," Hilde said. "That's one thing I definitely like about being a dame, a lady-in-waiting—always being warm in winter."

"Indeed," Anna said, looking around at the snowy square. "I wouldn't like to be out tonight with nowhere to go. I couldn't do that, not again."

"No one will have to," Elsa told her, taking her sister's hand. "Thanks to you."

* * *

The next evening, Anna was sitting by their bedroom window, watching the snow drift silently down. It was beautiful, she had to admit, at least when seen from a warm room inside a large castle, wearing warm, new clothes. And it was very nice to think that this year, for the first time ever, there wouldn't be any children out in the cold, their clothes thin and worn, slowly freezing to death. Without that knowledge, she knew, she would not be able to let herself enjoy the beauty of winter. A beauty that was only enhanced by the wonderful magic her sister could perform. Anna loved playing with the fantastical creations Elsa would make for her, from the simplest snowman to the most elaborate ice sculpture.

She saw a reflection in the glass as the door to their room opened and her sister came in. Elsa walked across to the window and stood beside her.

"This isn't your doing, is it?" Anna joked, nodding towards the gently swirling snow.

Elsa gave a light laugh. "No, this is all courtesy of the God of Winter Winds."

Anna looked out over the city, seeing the lights twinkle as the flakes caught them, sparkling as they swirled in the gentle breeze.

"I'm so glad Pappa's been rebuilding the city," she commented. "I can't even recognise Hvitekapellet any more."

"Which isn't a bad thing," Elsa remarked, resting her hand on Anna's shoulder.

Anna sighed. "I suppose," she agreed. "I mean, it wasn't really a nice place to grow up. Still, it's sad to think that my grandmother and brother never experienced the new city. I… I would have liked to show it to them."

"The priests tell us that they are in an even better place than any of us," Elsa said softly, reaching out and giving her sister's hand a gentle squeeze.

"When I first arrived here, I thought I had died and gone to Heaven," Anna said. She glanced at her sister, and smiled. "But I'm glad I hadn't. This is so much better."

"And it's going to get even better," Elsa said, giving Anna a lopsided grin.

"Better?"

"You know what tonight is, right?"

"Christmas Eve?"

Elsa nodded. "And you know what happens on Christmas Eve?"

"Of course! Christmas Dinner!" Anna cried happily. "Oh, is there really going to be goose? Mamma asked me what I wanted, and I said might we have goose, and she said we might!"

"Yes, we will have goose, don't worry," Elsa said, smiling. "As well as all the traditional foods like pinnekjøtt and risengrynsgrøt! And there'll be gløgg, and lots and lots of krumkaker! And then, after dinner…."

"Yes? After dinner?"

Elsa smiled. "A special surprise, just for you…."

* * *

"Go ahead Anna, open the door," the king said after the Christmas feast was over, smiling at his youngest daughter.

"To the Great Hall? What's in there? Why's it been locked for the last week?"

"Why don't you open it and find out?" he suggested.

Curious, Anna pushed down on the latch and swung the heavy door open. Then she stopped and stared, entranced. A massive Christmas Tree, larger than any she had ever seen, towered high in the middle of the darkened Great Hall. Gorgeously decorated, with candles flickering in its branches, it was surmounted by a huge star, in front of which the biggest candle of them all was shining, casting its radiance over the entire tree.

"Oh, it's magnificent," she breathed. Her mouth hanging open in awe, Anna walked slowly around it, lost in wonder. This was better than any tree she had ever seen while peeking through the windows of the wealthy, yearning to escape the bitter cold of winter. She glanced back, seeing her sister, her parents, standing there smiling at her, and felt a great warmth inside her, a wondrous sense of contentment and joy. It was like she had died and gone to Heaven, only better. Because it was real, it was here, it was perfect. It was everything she had ever dreamed of.

"It's all for you, Anna dearest," the queen said. "For your first real Christmas."

"Thank you, thank you so very much," she breathed, unable to hold back tears of happiness.

Her mother quickly moved to her side and embraced her, stroking her long red-bronze hair.

"There, there, my darling. Why don't you see what Julenissen has brought you?" the queen suggested gently.

"Br…brought me?"

"Look, Anna—these are gifts for you. For you and your sister."

Anna turned and gasped. She had been so entranced by the gorgeous tree that she had not even noticed the pile of gaily-wrapped presents piled high underneath it.

"These… are for me?" she stammered.

"Well, some are probably for me," Elsa noted dryly. "And maybe a few things for Mamma and Pappa."

"But most are for you, darling," the king said. "It's your first Christmas, so we have got you ten Christmases' worth of presents."

"Ten Christmases!" Anna gasped. "Ten!"

"You didn't get her baby rattles and stuff like that, did you?" Elsa asked, smirking.

The king tousled her blonde hair. "Of course not, dear."

"Don't do that, Pappa!" Elsa squeaked, trying to restore her hair to its neatly-curled braids.

"Oh, wear it down," Anna said. "It looks nicer that way anyway. Like mine," she added, flipping her pigtails, one of which now had a long white streak down its length. One that Elsa had frequently apologized for, until Anna had told her in no uncertain terms that she loved it, because it was like a part of her sister she always had with her.

"Well, then, girls, enjoy your presents," the queen said.

"Oh, oh, before that, Mamma, may I?" Elsa asked, holding up her hands. "For Anna. Just a little bit, I promise!"

The queen pursed her lips. "Are you really sure you can control it?"

Elsa glanced at her sister, whose eyes were open wide in anticipation, and nodded. "I know I can."

Her mother sighed. "Well, just a light dusting," she said as Anna's face broke into a huge grin.

"Do it! Do it!" Anna squealed. "Do the magic!"

Elsa winked at her, then made a gentle motion with both hands. A light flurry of pure white snow appeared in the hall above the tree, settling softly on the deep green branches.

"Oh, wow, that looks so… so perfect!" Anna gasped. "Better than any tree ever!"

"It's your first real Christmas, Anna," she said. "It has to be perfect."

"I must admit, it does look very nice," the queen said, her husband's arm around her. "Now we shall leave you to it. Just… try not to make a mess. Elsa, when the snow starts melting, make sure it doesn't get on the presents or the floor."

"No, Mamma," Elsa said. "I'll be careful."

"It won't have time to melt," Anna said, looking at the pile of presents.

The queen gave a light laugh. "Remember, cut the paper, don't rip it. Keep things neat and tidy, please."

"Yes, Mamma," the sisters chimed, then immediately grabbed a box each.

"Oh, this one says 'Anna'," Elsa said.

"And this one's for you," Anna added as the two girls exchanged presents.

* * *

In a surprisingly short time, dozens of presents had been unwrapped, and the two girls were surrounded by a large pile of wrapping paper, playing together with two dolls.

"I'm the handsome prince, riding to seek the hand of the fair Princess Elsa," Anna proclaimed, seating her doll astride its toy wooden horse.

"But the princess is alone, imprisoned in her high tower," Elsa said, holding her doll up high in the branches of the tree. She waved her hand, creating a small chamber of ice as Anna applauded. "Is the brave prince bold enough to fight the dangerous dragon who guards her?"

"Prince Olaf is not afraid of anything, man or beast!" Anna exclaimed.

"No? What about… a kiss?" Elsa asked, quickly smooching her doll against Anna's.

"Hey!" Anna exclaimed. "I'm supposed to kiss you! The princess is supposed to wait to be rescued and saved by love's first kiss!"

Elsa laughed. "Sorry. I'm not good at sitting and waiting. How about you be the princess, and I'll come and rescue you?"

Anna made a face. "I want to rescue you! I want to be the hero! You rescued me already, remember?"

"When? I did not!" Elsa retorted. "We've only just started playing this game!"

"Not in the game," Anna said, suddenly turning pink. "Before…."

"Oh. Ah," Elsa said, then smiled. "But you rescued me as well, you know. From the horrible ice dragon that kept me imprisoned."

"Ice dragon?" Anna asked, looking confused. Then her face cleared, and she smiled back at her sister. "Maybe we can both be heroes, and rescue each other."

"Or we could go and rescue poor Prince Olaf, who has been captured by trolls, and needs the help of the... the…."

"The Warrior Princesses!" Anna cried. "Elsa and Anna, to the rescue! Don't worry, Olaf! We'll save you!"

"Girls, if you could postpone your rescue mission in the Christmas Tree for a few moments," the king said, "there's one more present for you. It was too large to wrap, so here it is."

He made a sign with his finger, and Kristoff walked in, pushing a strange wooden contraption with two wheels.

"Merry Christmas, my beloved daughters," the king said, smiling.

"Uh, thanks Pappa," Anna said. "Er, what is it?"

"It's called a velocipede," their father explained. "The very latest from Corona. I ordered it specially—see, it has two seats!"

"Two seats? For what?"

"Wait, I think I've read about these," Elsa said, springing up. "Anna, you sit on that seat at the back... yes, like that. Pappa, can you hold it steady? Thanks. Now I get on the front seat, we both put our feet on these pedal things, and push off and… Whoah! Woah! Watch out, Kristoff!"

"Sorry!" Anna called, her face pink as the blond boy helped her up. "Are you all right?"

He laughed. "It takes more than that to damage me, don't worry," he said. "And you're so light anyway," he added, smiling at her.

Anna smiled shyly. "And you're so strong."

Kristoff went pink and scratched his head. "Uh, thanks…."

"Right, there will be no riding around the halls," the queen said, surveying the damage to the parquet floor. "Understood?"

"Yes, Mamma," Elsa and Anna chimed together. They looked at each other, grinning.

"At least not tonight," Anna whispered, and Elsa giggled.

* * *

"Anna, do sit still," Elsa said, trying to finish her chapter while her sister was playing with her braids.

"How can you read that?" Anna asked, leaning over Elsa's shoulder. "It's got no pictures or conversations! How can a book not have any pictures or conversations?"

"It can if it's a history book," Elsa said. "And you should be reading it too, you know. Miss Aarhus says you keep forgetting who your own grandparents are."

"But on New Year's Day?" Anna asked, making a face. "You can't study on New Year's Day! Come on, let's do something! Something fun!"

"Such as?" Elsa asked, closing her book with a sigh of exasperation that was only half genuine: her sister's enthusiasm was just too infectious to ignore.

"Well…" Anna said slowly, tapping her finger against her teeth. "I've got an idea," she said, a grin creeping across her face. "I'm hungry. Why don't we go and buy some pepperkaker?"

"Buy some pepperkaker? What do you mean? Where?"

"Out there," Anna said, gesturing towards the study window.

"That's the fjord," Elsa informed her.

"Oh, you can be so literal sometimes, you know!" Anna huffed. "You know what I mean! Out in the town, by ourselves!"

"By ourselves?" Elsa asked, her eyes wide.

"We haven't been outside by ourselves since… well, since we found out we were sisters," Anna reminded her. "I mean, I love living here, and I love being part of our family, but sometimes… sometimes I miss just being to wander around the city, wherever I liked."

"I suppose…" Elsa said slowly, thinking back to when she had ventured out looking for Anna and how she had, eventually, enjoyed feeling like she was one of her subjects; like she was a normal person.

"Is that okay? Could you do it?"

Elsa looked at her bare hands. "I'll be fine, as long as I'm with you," she said with a warm smile. "I haven't had to wear gloves for six months, now!"

"I know—I've been wearing them more than you these days! It's not fair how you don't get cold!"

Elsa gave a quick laugh. Then her expression turned serious. "I think I'll be all right, out there. Still, I think I'd still prefer it if people didn't recognise us on the streets. Not if it's just us, without Mamma and Pappa."

"In that case," Anna said with a conspiratorial grin, "I have an idea. Princesses don't generally just wander around the city. But…."

"But maids do…" Elsa said with a smile, finishing her sister's sentence for her.

* * *

Half an hour later, the two girls, dressed in their old maid's outfits, were hurrying across the bridge to the central city, followed at a discrete distance by two guards. Anna had complained about that, but her mother had insisted, stating that she was never going to risk losing her child again. But the queen had assured her that they would not get in her way, or try to stop her enjoying herself.

"Isn't this wonderful?" Anna asked, strolling along, kicking up drifts of fresh snow with her long, warm boots and chasing snowflakes.

"It's wonderful seeing you so happy," Elsa replied, watching her sister frolic in the snow. She started to gesture with her hand to conjure up a snowball, then suddenly remembered where she was. Instead, she stooped down and grabbed a handful from a snowbank, quickly forming it into two balls, which she hid behind her back as soon as Anna glanced towards her. Then, when her sister was running off after a particularly large flake, she threw one.

"Hey!" Anna cried as the snowball whished past her hair. "That's not fair! Just as well you're a horrible shot!"

"Maybe I was deliberately trying to miss," Elsa retorted.

"That's the excuse you always use!" Anna shot back, laughing. "Face it, sister! You may be brainy and beautiful, but when it comes to sports, I'm always going to beat you! You can't throw for—urgh!"

Pouting, Anna wiped the remains of the second snowball off her face, and glared at her sister, who was grinning back at her.

"See? Made you look!" Elsa crowed.

"Why, you—!" Anna snarled, stooping to grab her own handful of snow.

"You two! No snowball fights in the town square!" a policeman called.

Anna and Elsa both giggled, and Anna dropped the ball she had been packing. Then Elsa stopped, sniffing the air.

"Can you smell that?" she asked, breathing in deeply.

"I've got snow in my nose," Anna complained. She blew it hard, then sniffed the air herself.

"Ahhh, pepperkaker," both sisters sighed at the same time. They caught each other's eyes, and giggled.

"Over there," Anna said, pointing.

Elsa followed her sister over to a stall festooned with a sumptuous array of gingerbread shapes.

"Oh, I know this place. They have the best pepperkaker here," Anna said as they headed towards it. "Lestways, that's what everyone said. I… I couldn't usually get any to try, myself."

Elsa laid her bare hand on Anna's arm. "That's a worry you'll never, ever have again."

Anna sighed, a distant expression on her young face. "I know…. And it's wonderful." She shook her head, not wanting to dwell on the past. "So, what are you going to get? The heart? The house? The star?"

"The... snowflake, I think," Elsa said.

"I'm going to get the Christmas Tree," Anna said.

"They all look so good," Elsa admitted. Then she bit her lip as a dreadful thought struck her. "Uh, Anna, did you remember to bring any money?"

"Oi, you two! If you ain't got no coin, then bugger off, y'hear!" the stallkeeper snarled.

Anna raised an eyebrow, glaring at him. Then she fished out an entire gold piece, enough to buy half his stock, and held it up in her fingers. "Is this enough coin?"

The stallkeeper's eyes bugged out. "Well, now, welcome, welcome," he said, bowing and rubbing his hands together. "I'm sure two lovely young ladies such as yerselves will find something to yer tastes here!"

"You're a life-saver," Elsa whispered. "I've never bought anything like this before—I totally forgot!"

Anna giggled. "Forgetting money—only a princess would do that!" she whispered back.

"I forget money when I was searching for you in summer, too," Elsa confessed. "I had to go hungry the whole day!"

Anna laughed. "I know, you told me. It must have been a new experience for you…."

Her sister sighed. "It was. I… I had never known what it was like to go hungry before. You must have felt like that so often…."

Anna wrapped her arm around Elsa's, squeezing her tightly. "That's all in the past. We're here to buy pepperkaker!"

"So, the snowflake and the tree, ladies?" the stallkeeper asked.

"Oh, wait, wait," Anna called. "Look, up there! Those two girls!"

"Oh Anna, how sweet! They're holding hands! Yes, we'll take them," Elsa added to the stallkeeper.

"Ah, you like the princesses? They're a bit extra, on account of the fancy decorations, mind," he told her.

"Princesses?" Anna asked. "What princesses?"

"Why, Princess Elsa and Princess Anna, of course," the stallkeeper said. "This is a new design, in honour of 'Er 'Ighness's miraculous return to us!"

"Oh, we have to get those!" Anna cried. "We have to, Elsa!"

"So you're an Elsa too, eh?" the man said, smiling. Then he blinked, and his eyes opened wide. "An' didn't she say your name were Anna? Wait a minute…. You look familiar…. You're not the…?"

"Coincidence," Elsa quickly said. "Pure coincidence."

"Yeah, it's a popular name, innit?" Anna said, reverting back to her childhood accent. "Bleedin' 'eck, sis, this 'ere bloke figgered we might be princesses! Cor blimey! Us!"

"Too, er, too bloody right, mate," Elsa added, trying her best to imitate Anna's tones as her sister dissolved into giggles.

The stallkeeper looked at them strangely, but took their money and gave them two large bags, which included, in addition to the princess figures, several snowflakes, Christmas Trees, and other assorted shapes.

Snacking happily on a piece of pepperkaker each, Elsa and Anna wandered around the square, marvelling at all the wonderful things each of the stalls in the Christmas Market was selling. Anna had never been able to appreciate the marvellous variety of things on offer before—in her old life, she had tried to avoid looking, lest she be tempted by things she would never be able to have. But now… now, she thought with a deep sigh of contentment, she could finally allow herself to dream.

As they ambled along, each stallkeeper would call out to them, trying to tempt the two girls.

"'Ello, miss! Fancy a nice doll?"

"'Ow about a pretty scarf for your hair?"

"Roast chestnuts, ladies?"

"What about it, Anna?" Elsa asked. "Do you want anything else?"

Anna looked around the busy square. There were so many delights, and she could get any she liked, yet… she suddenly realised they were all just things. Empty things.

"It's funny," she said, "this time last year, if you'd given me a purse full of gold and told me I could buy anything I wanted, I would have... well, I don't know what I would have done. Bought all the food, all the clothes, all the dolls and toys…. But now…." She looked up at her sister, and smiled. "Now I have everything I really ever wanted. I have a family, a home… and a friend."

Elsa reached out for her sister's hand, and gave it a gentle squeeze. "It's all I wanted as well," she agreed. "I have a friend, and a sister. What more could one desire?"

"Well… some of your pepperkaker!" Anna added, pinching a piece from Elsa's bag.

The blonde princess glared at her younger sister for half a second, then the two of them dissolved into giggles.

* * *

The two girls wandered down the main street of the city, just window-shopping without any particular destination, Elsa letting Anna take the lead. Then her sister suddenly stopped, and peered in a brightly-lit window.

"What is it, Anna?"

"I remember this place," the young girl said in a quiet voice. "I remember standing right here, freezing cold, staring in the window at the warmth, the happiness just beyond, basking in the golden glow of the fire—a golden glow I knew I would never know…."

"Those days are over, Anna dearest," her sister told her softly. "For ever."

"I know," Anna said. "I haven't thought about that life for… for days, weeks even. But sometimes, you know, I remember what I was, and think about what I am now, and… it's funny, but I sort of feel guilty. As if I don't deserve this happiness—as if I'm betraying the girl I was."

"Oh, Anna, if anyone in the entire kingdom ever deserved that fairy-tale ending, you did," Elsa said, quickly drawing her in for a hug.

"Still, I sometimes remember what my life was like, what I was… and… and… I start crying," Anna confessed in a small voice. "When I was living it, it… well, I won't say it didn't seem so bad, because it was, but… it was all I'd ever known. All I thought I would ever know. I couldn't imagine ever having anything better. And I never imagined I'd ever escape it."

Elsa thought back to the cold winter's morning, a year before, when she had brushed the snow off Anna's nearly frozen body, discovering she was still alive. So much had happened in that year, so much that she had never imagined. She was no longer the cold, aloof Ice Princess, watching the world from her lofty eyrie—she was down among it, part of the world. All thanks to the love of her sister, her friend; a love which had changed both of them more than either of them had ever imagined.

"We've both escaped our fates," she said softly. "Rejoice in that."

"I know," Anna said, giving her sister a quick smile. "And it's so wonderful. Don't worry—I'm not sad. How could I be, when I'm having fun with you?"

Elsa briefly checked their surroundings, then made a quick gesture. Snowflakes began to flutter down from the sky, and Anna gasped, then laughed. She turned her face up to the sky, seeing the millions of tiny snowflakes drift down from the darkening heavens.

"I never imagined I'd enjoy winter this much," Anna said, laughing as she rubbed her nose where a stray snowflake had settled. "For so many years, it was such a bitter season. It was everything bad about my life—cold, dark, cruel. And then you came, and gave me a new life, gave me hope… gave me some magic in my life… all with a little snow."

* * *

That evening, Anna was lying in her bed in the castle, unable to sleep. There had been so many changes in her life, she reflected. In the space of one year, she had gone from the blackest depths of despair, her only remaining hope being to die, to having a loving family and never needing to worry about hunger or cold again. From being totally alone and despised to being loved and honoured by the entire kingdom. And to having the best friend she could ever have hoped or dreamed of. She looked over at the other bed, where her sister—her sister! It was still almost impossible to believe sometimes—was lying. She could see the covers moving gently as Elsa breathed, fast asleep.

She turned, gazing out at the sky through the half-open drapes. The snow had stopped and the aurora was out in full force, casting its gentle green light on the land below, shining through the window to make shifting patterns of light on the floor. Anna remembered how she used to stare at them back in her old home; how it seemed sometimes, just for an instant, those tantalizing green curtains would part, and she could get a glimpse of the perfect world that lay beyond them. The perfect world she had always believed she would never have in this lifetime; the one she thought she would have to die to experience. The one with the trees, flowers, spire-tipped roofs, sparkling snow, delicious food, gorgeous dresses, and the two young girls dancing happily through it all.

The world that was now hers….

But there was still something lacking. It wasn't quite right. It was too still, too silent….

A mischievous smile crept across her face. She slipped off her covers, and tiptoed across to her sister's bed. For a moment she stood there, looking down at the pale blonde hair of her best friend, remembering all the times she had seen her like that in the mornings when she would tiptoe in to light the fire.

But now there was no more need to be quiet. Now there was no need to be nervous. Elsa was no longer the perfect, untouchable princess—she was her friend, her sister. Her favourite person in the whole world.

But one who was still rather too fond of her soft, warm bed….

"Hey, Elsa?" she called, jumping on the bed.

"Mmm? Anna? Go back to sleep…."

"I just can't! The sky's awake, so I'm awake!" Anna cried, striking a dramatic pose.

"Well I'm asleep, and you should be too!" Elsa said with a laugh, pushing her sister off the bed.

Anna landed on the floor with a thump, and pouted. Then she had an idea. Something she knew Elsa would not possibly be able to refuse. Leaning over her sister, she brushed a strand of blonde hair from Elsa's ear so her whispered words would be clear.

"So… do you wanna build a snowman?"

**THE END**

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・ * ・

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* * *

**FINAL KNOWTES**

Well, there we are. The end at last. Thanks for sticking with this story all the way. After writing their story for over a year now, I'm going to miss spending time with Elsa and Anna….

Now for my final Knowtes, some of the facts behind the fiction.

I have to confess to a blatant twisting of historical reality here. While the term "velocipede" does indeed date back this far, the pedal-powered version that we now called a bicycle would not arrive until the 1860s, when Anna and Elsa would be seeing their own children ride them. The bicycle we see in _Frozen_ is several decades too early, and the type we see in _Frozen Fever_, with a chain drive, is from the 1880s. Anna and Elsa's grandchildren might ride them…. But never mind! It's the final chapter, the epilogue, and I think I can give the girls this one modest gift from the future.

The bit about the book with no pictures or conversations is a reference to Alice in Wonderland, Alice wondering how her sister could read such a book. There are very few books which would not be improved with pictures or conversations….

A "monger" is a slightly archaic word for a vendor, usually used today in compounds like "ironmonger" or "warmonger."

"_A nation's greatness is measured by how it treats its weakest members_" is a quote from Mahatma Ghandi, slightly modified to fit the situation here. The "winders" mentioned here, for any non-native speakers that might be confused, is just lower-class dialect for "windows." In the early 19th century, glass windows were still a bit of a luxury, especially anything larger than the small panes in leadlights—note how there are no huge panes of glass even in Arendelle Castle. Mind you, one reason for the small windows and general lack of glass in British houses of the era was the government's tax on glass. This was a patently silly idea. But glass manufacture in the early 19th century was still tricky, and the modern float glass method we use today was only developed in the 1950s. So the glass in the "winders" for the match girl's apartment would be small panes of crown glass (the clichéd "medieval window" appearance). Still, better than nothing, which was common for many people before then.

In Norway, Christmas Eve is the day on which the main meal is eaten and the presents exchanged apparently. "Pinnekjøtt" is a main course dinner dish of lamb or mutton typical to Western- and Northern Norway, largely associated with the celebration of Christmas, and served with puréed swede (not puréed Swedes) and potatoes, beer and akevitt. "Risengrynsgrøt" is traditional rice pudding, also served for Christmas. "Gløgg" is Norwegian mulled wine. "Krumkake" is a traditional waffle-like confection I have mentioned before, and a popular Christmas treat. And "Julenissen" is the equivalent of (but not the same as) Father Christmas or Santa Claus, but derives from the ancient _tomte_ or _nisse_ spirit. I don't want to go into too much detail about 19th century Norwegian Christmas traditions, as that would distract from the story too much. But there's a lot of other things I could mention, like the traditional Yule Goat, which are very different to the English Christmas most of us are probably most familiar with.

The mention of the "Warrior Princesses" is just a wee shout-out to _Xena_, another story that emphasizes the bonds of friendship, and how innocence can help save an injured soul. Of course with Xena there's a lot of lesbian subtext, which becomes pretty much maintext in several later eps, and I'm not implying anything like that for Elsa and Anna. I've actually added the merest hint of Kristanna, just to give a slight parallel with the canon. But Anna is still too young for anything but girlish crushes (and almost certainly wouldn't be allowed to marry Kristoff anyway. Unless we assume that as the grandson of the shaman he might also be the son of the chief, and so a sort of prince in his own right—yeah, I think I'll go with that…).

I would have liked to wrap up a few more secondary or tertiary characters, but that would have meant this final chapter becoming extremely rambling and random, taking the focus away from Anna and Elsa. So you'll just have to imagine that everyone else lived happily ever after as well. That the Old Bird Woman was given a proper place to live, that Hilde and Hans were reunited with their family.

In case anyone's worried that the "sky's awake—snowman" bit at the end means that Elsa's going to hurt Anna when they are playing, like in the film, that's not the case at all. In _Frozen_, this bit marks the end of the two sisters' happiness and the beginning of living in fear and isolation. In this story, it marks the final, complete end to that. In other words, I've used the Unhappy Beginning of _Frozen_ as my Happy Ending….

* * *

And with that, _There Sleeps a Living Flower_ has finally reached its end. While I will miss being part of Anna and Elsa's world and lives, I don't have any plans for a sequel. Their story is over: they have their happy ending. But I do have plans for other _Frozen_ fanfics, including a serious, realistic retelling of the movie in the same vein as my retelling of _Monsters vs. Aliens_, and a cross-over with _MVA_ (both being stories about what it is to be seen as a "monster"), so I am sure that you haven't heard the last from me here.

I've been pleased how well these Knowtes have been received, as I do like being able to explain all the facts behind my fiction, and in the course of researching this story I have learned a great many things, from the fact that whole boiled sheep's heads are a delicacy in Norway to who exactly the real Olaf was. They've created a distinct desire to visit Norway one day, and experience the landscapes, architecture, and food I have been writing about. Pity I can never meet Anna and Elsa….

And finally, a big thank you for all the wonderful reviews this story has got. Every review is a thrill to get and read, and have helped shape the story as I discuss the issues people raise. So to all those who reviewed, both signed-in and guests, as well as to those who have Followed and Favourited these scribblings of mine, my most sincere thanks and appreciation.

_Wordmangler_

Sunday the 19th of April 2015.


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